by Lynn Collins
“I love my little place. And for once in my life, I’m happy.” Cash leaned aside as the waitress brought their desserts. “I liked playing football, but I hated all the travel. I guess I’m just a homeboy at heart.”
“I’ve only been to Oregon and Washington.” Lizzie took a bite of her sundae. “I wanted to travel once I left high school, but plans change.”
“My dad travels a lot.” JR stretched to reach his shake.
“Yes, he does.” Lizzie wasn’t sure where JR was heading with the statement. Sometimes he just stopped. Other times he came up with some of the strangest correlations.
JR eyed Cash. “You used to travel a lot.”
Cash glanced at Lizzie, raising his eyebrows. She lifted her shoulders indicating she had no clue where JR was heading.
“That’s right. When I played football, I traveled a lot.” Cash paused and tried to change the subject. “Do you like the shake?”
“It’s good,” JR answered but didn’t allow Cash to change the conversation’s direction. He continued, “So maybe my dad will stop traveling and stay home with us like you stopped traveling and started working here.”
Lizzie’s heart dropped. This was why she hadn’t been honest with him or James before. JR was planning an at-home future with a dad who’d still be running around the country nine months out of the year. She cuddled closer to her son. “JR, listen. Just because you know who your dad is doesn’t mean he’ll be here with you. I mean he’ll try to see you as much as he can, but he’s busy.”
Cash chimed in, “And we can do stuff. The three of us. I’m taking your mom to the high school musical next weekend. It’s about pirates. Do you want to come with us?”
JR pushed his shake away, tears forming in his eyes. “Can we go home now?”
“Tired buddy?” Lizzie tousled his hair.
He nodded.
“Looks like Cinderella needs to take the pumpkin home.”
“I’m not a pumpkin.” JR curled into a ball on the bench, away from Lizzie.
She smiled at her grumpy son and ran her hand on top of his head. She refocused on Cash. “Sorry. He’s had too much excitement today. Thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime.” Cash watched her as she got up. She could feel his gaze following her actions.
Lizzie pulled JR to his feet. “Say thank you to Cash.”
Without looking up, JR muttered, “Thanks,” and took off for the door.
“It’s been a rough weekend for him.” Lizzie headed after her wounded son. Hell, it had been a rough weekend for her too.
“I’ll call next week to make plans.”
Lizzie turned and waved when she was at the door, but Cash was already at another diner’s table being the perfect host and owner. She and her son had been dismissed.
5
He should leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t.
Grimly, James strained to focus on the curvy road up to Lizzie’s place as daylight quickly faded from the sky. Though it was only a few miles and the truck could handle the tight curves without problems, most wildlife versus car accidents occurred at dusk so the drive was taking longer than he wanted.
The rental cabin business Lizzie and her family ran sat on the dirt road winding through the mountains outside Shawnee. The road dead-ended twenty miles passed the Hudson’s place at a small mining community. Between Lizzie’s and the road’s end were some of the best brown trout fishing spots in Idaho. Heck, maybe even in the northwest.
He hit the brakes at the sight of eyes flashing in the gathering dark by the river. Yep, a small herd of deer grazed next to the road, probably coming down to drink. James eased off the gas and hoped the deer would cooperate and stay on the side of the road while he edged by.
Mr. Cooper had kept him at the Longhorn long after they’d finished their meal. The man could eat. Sixteen-ounce rib eye, loaded baked potato, a side salad, and cheesecake for dessert. This coupled with strict religious beliefs that didn’t allow for a sip of either alcohol or caffeine. James had kept his drink order alcohol free as well, but Jesse’s drinking was a point of discussion for their upcoming meeting.
“We don’t expect him to follow our moral code.” Mr. Cooper had scooped up a bite of sour cream laden potato. “It’s just we don’t want to be explaining why the face of Cooper’s Country Store had to be bailed out of jail.”
James did his best to alleviate the man’s fears, but drinking a few beers after a big competition came with the lifestyle. Jesse wouldn’t give it up easily. Maybe the size of the contract would help him say no. Or at least when.
Cooper had continued, “We expect you to be the enforcer. We’re paying for a relationship with you as well.” Apprehension must have crossed James’s face because the man clarified, “Of course we’re paying you a bonus to manage your brother. But this is non-negotiable. You’re both part of the Cooper Country Store family.”
The words echoed in James’s head long after the meal ended.
Especially when Jesse hadn’t been at the hotel room when James returned.
He’d flicked on the television, but anxiety and restlessness got the better of him so he turned it back off. If he couldn’t nail down Jesse, he’d go finish his discussion with Lizzie. He had a son, and by God, he would get to know him, not waste more time waiting for his damn brother to show.
He’d left a note for Jesse, but James knew Jesse wouldn’t be the first one back in the room.
As the miles passed, James wondered if showing up without calling first was his best choice. Jesse might be the Sullivan with the reputation for being unreliable, but James knew he himself could sometimes be—and often had been—more than a little impetuous when it came to Lizzie. What if she was still at dinner with Cash? What if they were at the house, curled up together after putting JR to bed, sharing a kiss. Or more.
Damn it, he did not want them sharing anything with JR in the house.
Aw hell. Truthfully, he didn’t want them sharing anything, ever.
“Damn it,” he growled to himself. He shook the vision of what Cash might be doing with Lizzie out of his head. Cash wasn’t a problem—yet. If James didn’t work fast, he would be. Lizzie wasn’t a jumper. She took her time making up her mind about people. After this afternoon, James knew he was on thin ice. But she had to let him in.
Finally, there was the sign, five years the worse for wear. Hudson’s Hot Springs –relax in your very own private oasis. Cabins for Rent.
He pulled into the parking lot he’d helped carve out of the other side of the mountain road during senior year. From the look of the resort, adding the parking lot was the last improvement completed before Lizzie’s mom started cancer treatments.
He crossed the deserted road and stepped onto the wooden porch. The floor boards creaked under his weight. The wood-framed cabin at the edge of the road served as the guest cabin check-in, the dining room for Sunday breakfast, and the poolroom and bar for Saturday night. He knocked on the screen door, but a glance inside showed him the empty gathering room. Walking in, he examined the cabin. Perched between the pool table and a big overstuffed couch, a television that had seen better days played some robot movie.
“Liz? JR?” James called. No answer. Their bedrooms were on the second level of this cabin, but James knew if they were up there, they would have heard him. He’d spent a few Sunday afternoons in Lizzie’s room, listening for her dad to come back into the house.
A walk through the cabin showed him that five years had changed little. A bar ran the length of the cabin, but there were fewer bottles on the glass shelves. James inspected the empty glass-front fridge. A collection of Matchbox cars lined the edge of the wooden bar.
James’s eyes narrowed. Either the supply truck ran late this week, or Hudson’s Hot Springs had seen better days. Between hikers, back country skiers and the fact that Idaho had some kind of hunting season pretty much year round, James remembered the cabins being booked every weekend as well as most weeks throughout the year.
They should especially be booked for rodeo weekend.
He walked through the kitchen to the back door. Looking through the old screen door, he saw Lizzie and JR in front of a small shed at the edge of the back yard. JR held a flashlight.
A cat hissed at him from the kitchen cabinet.
“Whoa.”
The flashlight turned on the screen door.
“We’re closed,” Lizzie called.
“Your cat doesn’t like me.” James shoved open the screen, let it slam behind him.
“Dad!” JR ran towards him, the light from the flashlight bouncing up and down. When he met James, he hugged his legs. “Don’t worry about Mr. Pebbles. He doesn’t like anyone. You came to see me. I told Mom and Cash you would.”
James smiled and knelt to give his son a hug. “Of course, buddy. I want to get to know you. And Mr. Pebbles.”
“Can I get some light over here?” Lizzie’s voice sounded short.
“Let’s go help your mom.” James stood and, taking JR’s hand, he walked toward where Lizzie fiddled with an engine pump. “What’s the problem?”
Lizzie wiped her forehead with her hand. “The pump from the springs stopped working.”
He moved her over so he could get a better look. Glancing over the pump, he pointed out the problem. “Your shut off valve is stuck. Got any WD-40?”
“JR, run into the kitchen. It’s under the sink.”
JR took off with the flashlight, leaving Lizzie and James in darkness.
Lizzie sat on the ground, crossing her legs into a lotus position. “I’ve never been any good with this end of things and lately Dad’s let the upkeep get out of hand. Most days he’s fishing, but he never brings home anything. I think he’s still grieving.”
“I’m sure it’s hard on him. But, Liz, the cabins are empty? This weekend?”
Lizzie scrutinized a spot on the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. “James, we haven’t rented out the cabins in six months.”
“So how have you been surviving?”
Guilt crossed Lizzie’s face. “We get dad’s army retirement check. And…”
“And what?” James strained in the dark to see what Lizzie wasn’t telling him. What could be this bad?
“And JR gets Medicaid and we get food stamps.” Lizzie dropped her head.
“And you were waiting to call me when things got rough?” James lowered his voice. “Seriously, taking welfare is easier than asking me for help? I would have paid child support, whatever you needed. I would have been there.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t. Remember?” Lizzie’s voice cracked. “You’re not even really here now. You think you can ride in and every problem will be fixed? What fairytale did you step out of, Prince Charming?”
The screen door slammed and JR and his flashlight came flying back at the pair. “I found it. Finally.” He handed the can to James. “What did I miss?”
“Thanks.” James shot Lizzie the same we’ll talk later look she’d given Cash earlier. They didn’t need to fight in front of the kid. “Buddy, shine the flashlight right there.”
Silence reigned while James tinkered with the pump. Then he primed it a few times and hit the reset switch. The pump roared to life.
JR jumped backwards and fell on his butt. “Wow. You fixed it.”
“I did. But the pump needs to be oiled and the lines are pretty ragged at the edges. We’ll have to do some work tomorrow when it’s light.”
“I thought we were going to the rodeo tomorrow to see Uncle Jesse ride?”
“We are. But work comes before play. We’ll get up early and fix the lines. Then we can go.” He nodded at Lizzie. “Why don’t you go in and make some coffee and hot chocolate while us men check the rest of the system?”
“I can do that.” Lizzie’s voice was soft with gratitude. Just hearing her talk made him want to reach for her.
“Am I one of the men?” JR asked, interrupting the vivid daydream that was beginning to take James away.
“Yep. You and me. We’re the men tonight.” He stood and took JR’s hand. “We’ll be back in a few, woman.” He winked at Lizzie. “Make sure there are marshmallows in the hot chocolate.”
“And sugar for the coffee,” Lizzie answered. “I remember.”
He watched her walk to the house before turning back to the shed. For the first time in five years ago, he felt like he was home. Her words replayed in his mind, ‘I remember.’
I hope you do because I remember too much.
Lizzie poured milk into a pan and set it on the burner. James would have a cow if he knew how much she and JR depended upon the generous taxpayers of Idaho to get by these days. Along with the Medicaid and food stamps, this year for the first time she’d also gotten heating assistance to pay for filling the propane tank, as well as help with her electric bill. Then there was the financial assistance checks that kept the growing JR clothed.
It had taken swallowing every bit of pride she possessed to apply for assistance at all, but just when her dad seemed to be coming out of the daze her mom’s death left him in, he’d taken some kind of left turn away from them again. Lizzie had only managed to keep the cabins running as long as she had because nothing broke. But when the lines from their signature hot springs went down and all her dad said was “I’ll get to it” then wandered off to who knew where, Lizzie did what she had to. Because with the fall-off in trade due to the economy, the money to pay for outside help to get the place back on its feet just wasn’t there. Going to James for help after all this time hadn’t occurred to her at first. Then when it did because of questions on JR’s social services and welfare forms, she’d decided it was a bad idea best left to lie. When the interviewer prodded, Lizzie said simply that JR’s daddy wasn’t in the picture and had never been. Eventually the subject dropped.
Yeah and James finding out about JR this weekend has been so much easier.
Turning down the gas under the milk, she went to brew a pot of coffee. Social Services wanted to set her up with some job training that might help her to be more independent when it came to running Hudson’s Hot Springs, but so far nothing had come through. And today after learning that James had found JR alone outside River’s Edge while her dad was inside, Lizzie was no longer sure how she would be able to get that job training if she couldn’t trust her dad to look after JR while she was gone. Torn, she watched the small beam of the flashlight bounce around as James and JR walked around the backyard. Had she done the right thing? JR deserved to know his father and James was here for him. Today. But what about the next time Jesse called?
Finishing the coffee, Lizzie pulled out the chocolate chip cookies she’d baked Friday. JR would be over the moon. Two desserts in one night. He’d think it was a holiday. Grinning, she turned off the stove and mixed the homemade cocoa mix into the warm milk. There would be enough left over to stir into the coffee for homemade mochas for her and James. Sleep wouldn’t come easy tonight but she didn’t believe the cause would be the late-night caffeine hit.
She went to the front room and locked the door. Now they weren’t the host cabin for her rentals, she should remember to lock up earlier. But old habits died hard.
And see what the cat drug in tonight.
She grinned, turned off the television and went back to the kitchen. She’d set out the cups when the boys came in the back door.
“Mom, did you know there’s baby mice in the pump house? Can I keep one as a pet?” JR pulled off his jacket and dropped it on the floor next to the posts she’d installed by the door for his coats and jackets.
“Hang that right, buster. And no, we don’t keep mice as pets.” Lizzie poured the hot cocoa into JR’s favorite old NASCAR cup then added the requested marshmallows. “Go wash your hands.”
“That’s no fair. Sandy has mice and a guinea pig.” JR draped the jacket on the hook. “And a dog. You won’t even let me have a pet that’s free.”
“Hands, mister.” Lizzie pointed toward the bathroom door.
JR stomped out of the kitchen.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have shown him the mice. I’ll clean the shed out tomorrow.” James nodded to the kitchen sink. “Mind if I wash up in here?”
“Go ahead.” Her mind raced. He planned on coming back tomorrow? She knew he’d mentioned something when they were fixing the pump, but she thought he’d was being nice. “Look, you don’t have to come back tomorrow. Fixing things here isn’t your problem.”
James dried his hands on the kitchen towel. “I said I would and I am. So accept my offer and say thank you.”
“But really, you don’t have to…” Lizzie stopped when the dishtowel popped her arm. “Ouch.”
James grinned. “Want another one?”
“No. I mean thank you for doing this.” Lizzie gave in and pointed to the coffee. “You want some cocoa mixed in?”
“And ruin the coffee? No thanks. Black is fine.” James sat down at the kitchen table. “You make these cookies?”
“I did.” She set the coffee in front of him. “Chocolate chip is JR’s favorite. And he can’t stand raisin.”
James grabbed a cookie and took a bite. “You always did make a mean cookie. There’s so much I missed, isn’t there?”
Lizzie poured half a cup of cocoa then topped it with coffee. Stirring the mixture, she paused before answering, “Yes. He was a cranky baby, but my mom could soothe him. She said I was too nervous, I moved too fast.”
“Sounds like you.” James’s voice sounded warm and quiet.
She dropped the spoon in the sink, looked out the window. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t fair.”
“You did what you thought was best for you and JR. How can I be mad at that?” James stood behind her.
She felt his breath on her cheek; tears threatened. “I should have told you.”
James leaned into her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. “You’ve told me now. And you gave me the most amazing gift today.” He spun her around and wiped her tears. “We can’t change the past. All we can do is live today and plan for tomorrow. Where we go tomorrow…” He shrugged. “We need to make those decisions.”
