by Wendy Davy
The plane’s single engine roared to life as Harley and Drake carried on a conversation. She peeled her eyes open to watch the two men in the front who looked completely at ease. She wished she could siphon some of their confidence into her rapidly beating heart.
Maggie cringed when the plane sped along the water. They headed straight for the line of trees on the other side of the lake. She grabbed the seat and braced herself. At the last second she squeezed her eyes shut and prepared for impact. When nothing happened, she peeked out of the corner of one eye. She let her head fall back onto the seat when she saw they had cleared the trees. They may make it after all.
The scenery outside the window took her breath away, unfortunately so did her nausea. Maggie leaned forward to ask, “How long is this trip?”
“Just a few more minutes. It takes a few hours by the winding road, but by air? Not long at all.” Drake answered and turned to look at her. “Are you okay?”
She quickly nodded her head and gave a weak smile. “Kind of.”
“Remember the bag.”
Heat rose up her face again. “I remember,” she said as she flopped back in her seat.
Harley said, “Don’t feel bad ma’am. ‘Bout half of my passengers end up using one of them.”
Maggie met his eyes and nodded. “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better right now.” She had to stop talking. She felt like if she opened her mouth again, a lot more than words would come out.
“There’s the lake.” Drake pointed to the right of the plane.
Relief spread through Maggie until she peered down at a small patch of water. She found her voice again in a hurry, “That’s a lake? It looks like a pond. Are you sure…”
“I’m sure. It looks narrow, but it’s long. Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry. Yeah right.
Maggie grasped her seat and held on for dear life. Harley brought the nose down and her stomach dipped along with the plane. Her sweaty palms slid on the vinyl seat as she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. The plane bounced and jarred as it skimmed and landed on the lake. Finally, it slowed to a crawl as Harley expertly directed them to the dock.
Maggie managed to keep from using the bag, but she felt like she was the one needing an overhaul now. She climbed out of the tin can, silently thanking God for the safe trip. When she stood up on the dock, she felt like her insides still rolled and tumbled with the turbulence. She stumbled to the side and felt a steady arm capture her waist.
“Maybe you’d better take a seat on the picnic table,” Drake said as he ushered her to the wooden table.
Maggie felt fatigue claim her limbs and she took refuge in the solid strength of Drake’s arm around her waist. She flopped to the bench seat and mumbled, “Thanks.” Drake placed his warm hand on her neck, coaxing her to plant her face into her knees with gentle pressure.
“It will help your nausea if you keep your head down.”
“I hope so. I feel miserable,” she admitted as she leaned her forehead on her knees.
“Wish you had taken me up on the spa resort offer?”
She didn’t know if he was serious or teasing her. Considering her frayed nerves, Drake’s statement sent a spiral of irritation rocketing to the surface once again. She shook her head from side to side and instantly regretted the movement as the nausea taunted her. She stilled her head and moaned, “Go away.”
His hand left her neck immediately. “Stay there until you can walk.” Drake’s voice became edgy, impatient. “Your cabin is the farthest one out. It’s unlocked. You’ll find the key inside.” His gruff statement held no warmth. Maggie could hear his departure as his boots ground on tiny bits of gravel.
The glimpse of kindness she had seen in Drake instantly disappeared with her demand for him to go away. A part of her wished she hadn’t said it as a slight bit of disappointment ran through her. She could almost like Drake when he was being nice. But, his kindness didn’t last long enough for her to tell.
Maggie sat still and stared down at the ground through the small space between her knees. She watched a row of ants march their way to a feast of crumbs under the table. A breeze rustled the leaves and occasionally she heard distant voices travel past her and echo against the forest of trees.
She had only caught a glimpse of the resort before her head hit her knees, not enough to really know what it looked like. So far, she knew it had a long, skinny lake and ants. Curiosity won out over nausea and she lifted her head from her lap. So far so good. Maggie sat up straighter to look around, only to have a cold, wet washcloth pressed to her face.
“I could tell by the looks of you when you stepped off that plane, you could use some of my tea,” a woman’s voice explained as she released the washcloth.
Maggie spotted the rosy cheeked, slightly plump woman before she caught the soothing aroma of the tea. Dimples appeared on the woman’s cheeks, and Maggie’s heart lurched. The dimples looked oddly familiar.
“I’m Aunt Camelia. Everyone calls me Aunt Cammie, though.” The woman’s warm smile completely melted Maggie’s annoyance away.
“Thank you. I’m Maggie Reynolds,” she said as her muscles relaxed.
“I know.”
Maggie lifted her eyebrows.
“News travels fast in a retreat as small as this one. Not much’ll get past me, I’ll tell ya that now.”
“Are you a guest too?”
Bright laughter came from deep in her throat. “No dear. I’m Drake’s aunt. I work for him.”
That explains the familiar dimples, Maggie thought.
Drake’s aunt gestured to a large building just to the right of the picnic table. Maggie saw a sign above the door, proclaiming it to be Aunt Cammie’s Kitchen.
“I do the cooking. Three square meals a day. There’s a dining table inside that has a great view of the lake. But on nice days I’ll serve up the food out here on this table.” She patted the long picnic table. “I serve up at eight, twelve and five,” she said as she scooted the tea closer to Maggie. “Here, drink up now. If you’re late, you can find your plate in the fridge. Otherwise, snacks are in the cupboard.”
“Sounds good.” Maggie saw a deep rooted kindness in the woman’s demeanor. “So, you’re Drake’s aunt? I see the family resemblance. You have the same dimples as Drake.”
The woman seemed overly pleased with her assessment. “Yes, I like to think of him as the boy I never had.” Maggie detected a passing glimpse of sadness reflected in her eyes. Aunt Cammie rattled on, “He’s not a boy anymore is he? I heard you’re here alone, is that right?”
Maggie immediately recognized the matchmaking twinkle in Aunt Cammie’s eyes.
“At first, my Drake can seem a little…rough around the edges. But I tell you dear, he’s got a heart of gold.”
“Really? I haven’t seen it yet.”
She chuckled. “Give him enough time, and you will.”
“No offense but I’m not here to see Drake’s heart.”
Aunt Cammie leaned over and patted Maggie’s shoulder. “Breakups are tough on young’uns like you. But you’ll get back on your feet soon enough.”
“How did you know? Oh yeah, small resort. Word travels fast.”
“Yes.” Aunt Cammie smiled. “Well, I’ll be on my way. See you at supper.”
Maggie nodded her head and smiled even though the thought of food made her want to retch. She hoped the tea would work its magic on her stomach so she could join the others for supper. Drake had already made her feel like an outcast, if she missed the first meal, she’d feel even more like one.
Maggie took a good look around her for the first time. At first glance she could see a lake with a dock, a fire pit, five cabins, Aunt Cammie’s restaurant, a storage shed and a ton of trees.
When she gave the area another, longer look she saw and felt something beyond that of the obvious. She took in the details of her surroundings and noticed the trees teemed with creatures, some she could see, others she could only hear. S
he saw squirrels jump from branch to branch, a lizard skitter under a pile of leaves, and a lone eagle circling high over her head.
Maggie smelled the fresh air and looked at the sparkling blue lake. The dock reached out into the water and had a floating platform on the end of it. Two recliners sat side by side on the platform which reminded her she had joined a couples retreat, making her even more uncomfortable. She saw a fish jump near the dock, sending a series of ripples across the placid lake.
The serenity of the entire area contrasted with the long range of emotions churning deep within her. She took a deep breath, trying to absorb some of the peace nature provided as she continued to study her surroundings.
The cabins held a rustic appeal yet had modern touches. Each cabin had its own gravel path leading up to a set of wide steps. Solar lampposts stood high above the ground in front of each cabin, while smaller solar lights lined the walkways.
The steps led up to covered porches that stretched as wide as the cabins. Flowerpots adorned each porch, no doubt courtesy of Aunt Cammie. Maggie tried to imagine Drake filling the terra-cotta pots with petunias and keeping them watered. The thought of the large, manly-man fiddling with flowers brought a smile to her lips.
She saw wooden rockers on each porch. Had Drake carved them out of a tree? Now that she could imagine. She noticed each rocker had a partner, reminding her again that she didn’t.
The sudden disappointment caught her off guard and she drew in a deep breath. She forced her thoughts to change and focus on the present. She squared her shoulders and stood from the bench. The tea had worked magic, her nausea had faded away.
Maggie folded the washcloth and left it on the table for Aunt Cammie along with the empty tea cup, happy to know that someone, besides Cyndi, welcomed her here.
“You’d better get settled and ready for supper.” Drake’s voice cut into her thoughts as he mysteriously appeared behind her. “It’s getting close to five and Aunt Cammie always has the meal ready on time.”
Maggie just about jumped out of her new boots and twisted around. “I didn’t see you behind me.”
“You should be more alert. I could have been a bear,” he growled as he carried the crate of supplies past her.
“You are a bear, Mr. Strong.” Maggie made sure she spoke loud and clear as she posted her hands on her hips.
Drake immediately stopped and dropped the crate to the ground. He stood tall and held his back rigid to her for a moment. Slowly, he turned to face her with a smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He slowly stepped toward her and she had to make a conscious effort not to retreat.
“I should warn you, Maggie.” He stepped within the realm of her personal space and said, “As your host. I can make your stay here pleasurable. Or, I can make it a living nightmare. Which do you prefer?”
Maggie closed the gaping hole in her mouth to speak. “P-probably the former. Mr. Strong. I mean Drake. I apologize. My runaway mouth has gotten me in trouble more than once.”
Drake’s eyes lowered to her lips. “I don’t doubt that for a minute.” His eyes turned a shade darker as they made their way back to hers.
She moistened her dry lips. He watched.
Maggie fought hard to find her voice. “I’ve been a bit on edge lately. With all that’s been happening…” Maggie trailed off. “Maybe we can start over.”
“You’re mistaken. There is no we ,” Drake said as he turned and picked up the crate. He walked away without a backward glance.
****
Maggie lugged her exhausted body up the steps to the cabin. Her suitcases thudded behind her with each step she climbed. The stressful day combined with the past few weeks loomed over her like a menacing shadow. She had made it to the cabin, despite the resistance from Mr. Strong, despite the fear of flying in a tin can, and despite her broken heart and shattered dreams. If she could make it this far, Maggie reasoned, she could continue a bit further.
She wanted to find something to complain about to bring Drake Strong down a notch. She hoped to find a leaky faucet, a toilet that wouldn’t flush, or at the very least a dust bunny inside the cabin. But, when she walked through the door, she saw only immaculate and luxurious accommodations.
The spacious room had a living area with an inviting sofa facing a fireplace with wood already stacked in a neat pile, ready to use. A mahogany desk with a decorative lamp on it, sat to the far right by a window.
Maggie stepped further into the room and pulled her suitcases in behind her before she shut the door. She examined the queen size bed that rested beyond the living area. Its fluffy comforter appeared warm and inviting. As she got closer, she spotted a piece of chocolate waiting for her on each of the pillows. It took all of her willpower not to collapse onto the welcoming bed and drift off into oblivion. But, if she did that, she may not find something to complain about. So she kept searching the cabin.
The only other door in the room led to a spacious bathroom that took her breath away. A Jacuzzi tub nestled in the corner of the modern and luxurious room. It looked like a mirage, so she went over and touched it to make sure it was real. The cool, smooth curves of the tub led down to more than a dozen jets, deep in the bottom. It called to her. This time she gave in.
She ignored Drake’s warning about being late for supper and turned the water on to fill the tub. Before she got too complacent, however, she searched the sink’s faucet for a leak. But, it didn’t drip. Not even once. She flushed the toilet and couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Next she checked under the bed for dust bunnies. Not one could be found.
She sat on her knees for a moment beside the bed and looked around. Touches of color splashed the walls and furniture, making the otherwise earth-toned room inviting and cozy. It looked like Drake Strong had gone out of his way to make his resort a comfortable and appealing place to stay.
Maggie unfolded herself from the floor and readied herself for her bath. She climbed into the tub and let the hot, pulsating water relax her muscles as she sunk neck deep into the water. Her thoughts turned to the mystifying resort owner. Why would someone who seemed so rugged and irritable go out of his way to make his guests extra comfortable? As her thoughts wandered, the warm water soothed her tense muscles. Afraid of falling asleep in the tub, she reluctantly turned off the jets after a few minutes and opened the drain. Her former irritation swirled away down the drain with the retreating water.
Maggie found a soft, huggable robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. She pulled it on and snuggled into it. Drake’s attention to detail surprised her and a budding respect for the resort’s rugged owner began to take form in her. With her mood vastly improved, Maggie decided to change her approach to Drake. So far, standing up for herself only seemed to aggravate the man. She decided to compliment him instead of trying to bring him down a notch to see what kind of reaction that would stimulate.
Not that I care what he thinks anyway , Maggie assured herself. But he did have a point when he said he could make her stay here miserable. She didn’t doubt for a second that he would too, if he was so inclined.
A Matter Of Trust
His eyes trailed down the length of her face…
“Am I under interrogation?” James stood up and sauntered over to stand in front of her. He placed one hand on the post beside her head, leaned in close to her. “Is it just me you don’t trust or all men?” He met her eyes and held them captive.
Victoria found the sudden need to swallow. She wanted to turn and leap over the railing to get away. However, knowing how silly that would look, she stood her ground. “At the moment, just you.”
“Well then, I’ll have to give you a reason to trust me won’t I?” He leaned forward a bit more, his lips inches from hers.
He was going to kiss her.
Okay. So she thought he was going to kiss her. Only he didn’t. He stayed close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin, yet not quite close enough to touch her. “I want to kiss you.” His eyes trailed dow
n the length of her face to land on her lips. “And…I always get what I want.”
A Matter Of Trust
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
A Matter Of Trust
COPYRIGHT © 2008 by Wendy Davy
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Kim Mendoza
The Wild Rose Press
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Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First White Rose Edition, 2008
Print ISBN 1-60154-323-9
Published in the United States of America
