Love is a Battlefield (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Book 1)

by Whitney Dineen

  “What do you mean, black bears? In all the times I’ve been to Oregon no one has ever mentioned cougars or black bears to me.”

  “You can’t blame them,” I tell her. “You were enough of a handful when you thought it was only the spiders and snakes you had to worry about.”

  “What snakes?”

  “I see they didn’t tell you about those either. Don’t worry, the only dangerous ones in this part of the state are rattlesnakes, and I haven’t seen one in years.”

  Addie sways on her feet, causing me to reach out for her. I grab her just as she keels over. I really do feel bad now. I was just trying to be upfront about what she might encounter up here, I wasn’t trying to scare her. Well, I was, but I didn’t know she’d faint.

  I carry her over to the porch and gently lay her down. If this woman is afraid of the idea of wildlife, how in the world will she react if she actually runs into it?

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Mothers

  “Remember how Tom used to tease Bob that growing up in New York City left him completely ignorant of the great outdoors?” Libby asks her friend while playing Chinese checkers on Ruby’s deck overlooking the valley.

  Ruby starts to laugh. “He told him that elephants ran wild in Arizona. Bob knew enough not to believe him, but Tom sold it so well that Bob called his mom to see if it was true.”

  “Helen was mortified!” Libby practically doubles over in merriment. “She threatened to pull Bob out of college and sue that fancy academy he attended for high school. I haven’t thought about that in ages.”

  “I’m still not sure why the Coopers ever let him come to Oregon for college. You’d think they would have made him go to an Ivy League school.”

  Libby jumps three yellow pegs on the board, winning the game. “They took him to all the schools he wanted to see and then let him decide. Thank goodness OSU has such a great engineering program or our paths might have never crossed.”

  “Oregon has been good to you,” Ruby tells her friend.

  “It’s been good to all of us. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” Libby reaches her hand out to her friend.

  Addison

  I open my eyes to discover I’m lying across Brogan’s lap. What the … I smack at him and demand, “What am I doing here?”

  “You fainted,” he tells me.

  “You big liar. I’ve never fainted in my life. You must have drugged me or hit me over the head or something.” I touch the back of my head to see if it hurts. It doesn’t.

  “You’re crazy.” He laughs before asking, “Do you think you can stand without falling over?”

  I push off him and force my legs to steady themselves. Then I look around and remember our conversation about rattlesnakes and bears. Dear sweet baby Jesus in a manger, I probably did pass out. “About those rattlesnakes,” I ask, “what do I do if I spot one?”

  “Avoid it.”

  “Of course, I’m going to avoid it. I mean, what do I do if I get bit?”

  “That would be the time to yell,” he tells me.

  “Obviously, that would be the first thing I’d do. I was thinking more along the lines of how to treat it.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t cut the wound and try to suck the poison out. That can actually cause it to spread faster if you don’t know what you’re doing. That’s why I said to yell. You’ll want someone to help you get to the lodge where we keep antivenom if it’s needed.”

  This information does absolutely nothing to make me feel better. After all, why would the lodge keep antivenom on hand if snakes weren’t an issue? “What about the bears?”

  “You want to maintain eye contact with them. Lift your arms up and make as much noise as you can.”

  “That’ll scare them off?”

  “Most of the time.” Every pore on my body opens and feels like it releases a gallon of water. I’m suddenly drenched in sweat when he adds, “Although sometimes they like to charge to see if you’ll turn and run. Don’t do that or they’ll get you for sure.”

  He can’t be serious.

  “They’ll stop several feet away when they see you’re not scared. Then they usually leave,” he concludes.

  “You expect me to stand still while a black bear charges me? Shouldn’t I climb a tree or something?” I’m ninety percent sure I can’t climb a tree, but being potentially attacked by a bear seems like a good time to give it a go.

  “Bears climb better and faster than any human can. Keep your feet on the ground and act tough.”

  I want to quit this stupid challenge right now. What was I thinking, taking this bet? Brogan seems to read my mind because he says, “Hey, if you’re too scared, you can throw in the towel before you even start.”

  Great, now I can’t quit. “If you can live out in the woods, then so can I.” I turn to walk into the cabin without another word.

  Holy Hello Kitty, this place is a dump. There are only a few chairs scattered about and a small wooden side that has toppled over, otherwise it appears totally empty. The dirt is an inch thick on nearly every surface and there are so many cobwebs it looks like someone was decorating for Halloween.

  “The chinking looks like it’s held up well,” Brogan says while examining the walls.

  “What’s chinking?” Unless it’s a magic genie that can snap its finger and turn this place into a suite at the Ritz Carlton, I don’t really care, but on the off chance it is, I figure I should ask.

  “It’s the mud and clay that was packed between the logs of the cabin to make it weathertight.”

  Thrilling. I might as well be sleeping outside.

  “You think you’d know that being an interior decorator,” he adds.

  “I don’t decorate for the Flintstones,” I tell him, not doing anything to conceal the annoyance in my tone.

  “The Flintstones lived in a rock house. I’m pretty sure they didn’t use chinking.”

  Why are we having this stupid conversation? I ignore Brogan and start to look around the place. The bedroom is smaller than my closet at home which is saying something as New York apartments aren’t known for large closets, unless you have a trust fund and a penthouse. I don’t have either. “Where’s the bathroom?” I call out.

  “Out back,” comes the answer from the living room.

  “Out back, where?” I’ve run out of cabin.

  Brogan peaks his head around the corner. “Follow me.”

  I’d rather not, but what choice do I have? I’m going to have to use the toilet in the month I’m up here.

  He leads me out the front door and around to the back of the cabin. My feet are planted firmly in denial. I don’t know where I think he’s taking me, but when we arrive at a tiny grey wooden structure with a half-moon carved into the door, I realize the bitter truth of my circumstances. He expects me to use an outhouse. I stand as still as if I were playing that old childhood game statue maker.

  “You want to check it out?” he asks.

  I have no words.

  He walks over and opens the door before saying, “Make sure the cleaning crew spends some time in here.”

  I can’t even. Brogan tricked me into accepting a bet that will have me using an outhouse for an entire month. I’m about to call him out on it and use the information to break our bet, when he says, “This will actually be nicer than mine when it’s cleaned up a bit.”

  “I didn’t see an outhouse at your place,” I accuse like he’s making that up.

  “Were you looking?” Before I can answer, he adds, “Did you see a toilet when you snooped around while I was in the shower?”

  “How do you know I snooped around?” I demand with my hands on my hips.

  I want to smack the smug look right off his face when he answers, “Please, there’s no way you didn’t snoop.” What in the heck is that supposed to mean?

  I choose to ignore him and ask, “Where were you taking a shower if not in a bathroom?” He did walk out the front door in his towel, but I assumed there
was some kind of shower house nearby like they have in a lot of campgrounds.

  “I have an outdoor shower,” he says.

  Alarm does not begin to describe the sharp jolt of dread that shoots through me. I cannot stand naked in the middle of the woods and clean myself.

  I’ve seen outdoor showers. Heck, I’ve designed them, but they’ve always been used for the sole purpose of rinsing off sand from the beach. They aren’t meant for real cleaning.

  “You look like you’re going to faint again,” he says with a huge smile on his face.

  “Hardly.” I roll my eyes so hard I think I might have detached a retina or something. Full of false bravado, I announce, “I can shower in the great outdoors just as easily as you can.”

  “I’m sure you can. There’s nothing like cold well water to wake you up in the morning.” He adds, “You know there’s no hot water up here, right?”

  “Obviously,” I scoff. Why isn’t there hot water up here?

  A flood of childhood memories come back to me like a tsunami wave. Memories that must have been blocked to protect my sanity. Son of a mother dog, I might just lose this bet after all.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Mothers

  “I’m just going to run down to the gift shop for a minute,” Libby announces after she and Ruby finish another game of checkers.

  “I’m sure I’ve got whatever you need up here.”

  “I want to buy a couple postcards. I thought I’d start a memory book for Addie.”

  “You think it’s likely she’ll forget this trip?” Ruby asks, surprised.

  “No. I just want her to remember how beautiful everything is here. You know, for when she goes home and tries to convince herself that Oregon is as bad as she remembers from childhood.”

  “I think we’re going to have to trust that nature will do its thing and she’ll be too full of love hormones to think differently,” Ruby says.

  “You might be right, but I’m still going to get some postcards.”

  “Ask Chris to give you a couple brochures while you’re down there. They’re full of pictures that are great for scrapbooking.”

  “Good thinking. I wanted to chat with Chris anyway.”

  Brogan

  “Hey, Billy,” I greet my sometimes roommate who’s just shown up at Addie’s cabin. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your mom asked me to make sure there was a wide enough path for the cleaning crew to get a pick-up through.”

  “Are they on their way up?”

  “They’re just behind me.” Billy turns to Addie and says, “This is a pretty nice place, huh?”

  “You’re joking,” she replies under her breath. She must think better of it because louder, she adds, “I’m sure it’ll be fine once it’s cleaned up a bit.”

  “I’ll check the outhouse for snake nests,” Billy tells her matter-of-factly.

  If I’d have caught Addie’s reaction on video, I could have broken the internet with all the hits it would get on YouTube.

  “What. Snake. Nests?” Each word is delivered so precisely she sounds like she’s pronouncing them for the first time.

  “Don’t know if there are any, but it’s always good to make sure,” he tells her.

  “Did you check my outhouse for nests?” I ask him curiously.

  “Are you royalty?” he wants to know. “Check your own outhouse.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “I’ve been using it for a couple days, and I haven’t been bit yet, so I’m probably good.” Addie leans against the cabin to hold herself up as she digests the news of possible snake nests.

  A pickup truck pulls into the clearing carrying a rollaway bed from the hotel and a slew of other supplies. I tell Billy, “I’ll be bringing Addison back up after supper tonight. Do you mind hanging out and making sure the place is ready?”

  He nods his head once before turning toward Addie. “Don’t you worry none. It’ll look like new by the time you get back.” She does not look convinced.

  “Come on,” I call out to her. “Let’s get you to the lodge so you can pack up before dinner. Your month begins tonight.”

  “Four weeks from today,” she says while thrusting her hand out to shake.

  “Four weeks is only twenty-eight days,” I inform her. “Being that it’s not February, I’ll settle for thirty days instead of pushing for thirty-one.”

  Addie glares at me like I just cooked her pet bunny. “Fine.” It’s all I can do to keep from laughing out loud, but I don’t want to look like a sore winner, so I stifle it.

  The drive back is made in total silence. I leave Addie to her thoughts as I sink into the serene sensation the woods always give me. Safety, security, and a sense of belonging to something bigger. I’m a firm believer God created the woods to remind man of the power of his goodness.

  I’m so lost in my reverie that we’re at the lodge before I know it. I pull up front to let Addie out, when a familiar blonde woman walks up to the driver’s side of the golf cart. She stops right next to me and says, “Brogan, how are you?”

  I want to ask her how she thinks I am, but I don’t. Instead I merely reply, “Emma, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to spend a few hours at the spa.”

  “Aren’t there spas in Chicago?” I ask.

  “I moved back to Oregon a couple of months ago,” she says as if she’s surprised I don’t already know this.

  I begin to have second thoughts about building a house here. If Emma is in Spartan—and why is she here?—there’s no way I won’t run into her, even if it’s only on the rare occasion. “What about your job?” I ask, hoping she’s only here temporarily.

  “I quit.” Emma is a news anchor on television. It’s part of the reason we broke up. She took a job in Chicago without consulting with me to see if I wanted to live there, and while that’s a pretty sure indication of where I was on her list of priorities, it’s also not the only reason we parted ways.

  I have all kinds of questions, but there’s no way I’m going to engage her in conversation long enough to ask.

  Emma’s eyes roam over to Addison as she asks, “Is this your girlfriend?” She says the word in such a way that you’d say cesspool or locust invasion.

  “Family friend,” I answer before Addison says something that makes me look like a total loser. Not that I should care, but everyone likes to look their best when their past comes back to haunt them.

  There’s no way Addie can miss the tension in the air. She merely smiles at Emma and says, “Addison Cooper.” This is not followed by a tirade of how she thinks I’m the devil’s own. Thank goodness.

  “Emma Jackson,” my ex says. “Do you live around here?”

  Addie jolts in her seat. “Not even close. I live in New York City.”

  “Why are you here then?” Emma demands.

  Something about her makes Addie bristle because she answers, “How is that any of your business?”

  “I was just making small talk,” Emma says with her famous fake anchorwoman smile plastered to her face.

  “I’m staying out in the woods with Brogan,” Addie surprisingly offers.

  This has Emma raising her eyebrows clearly wanting to know more, but she doesn’t ask.

  Instead, she says, “That ought to be cozy.”

  Addie ignores her and turns to me. “I’m going to head up now.”

  “I’ll see you at dinner,” I tell her with a genuine smile on my face. I have no idea why she didn’t throw me under the bus and tell Emma what a good for nothing pain in her butt I am. But she didn’t, and I’m grateful to her for that.

  After she goes, Emma says, “She’s more than just a family friend, isn’t she?”

  “I believe Addie said it best when she said that isn’t any of your business.”

  “Brogan,” Emma takes a step closer like she’s about to share classified information and doesn’t want to be overheard. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Huh.” I have no idea what I�
��m supposed to say to that. I finally settle on, “What about Jeremy?”

  “Jeremy who?” she asks, playing dumb.

  “Your boss in Chicago,” I remind her.

  If this were a movie, Emma would be up for an Academy Award. “I have no idea how he is. I assume he’s alive and well in the Chicago suburbs with his family.”

  Apparently, Jeremy wasn’t interested in leaving them for Emma after all.

  I shake my head slowly. “I should probably tell you that it was nice to see you before I drive off, but the truth is, I’d be happy to never lay eyes on you again.”

  “Brogan,” she says as she reaches out to touch my arm. “I’m back in Oregon for good. Surely we can find a way to be friends again.” Friendship sounds like the last thing on her mind.

  “I have all the friends I need, Emma,” I tell her before stepping on the gas. Sadly, I merely creep away as the golf cart doesn’t have that much get up and go, but no matter, it’s nice to be the one to leave her behind for a change.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Mothers

  “Are there any topics I should steer clear of at dinner?” Libby asks her friend while they finish getting ready for the upcoming family meal.

  “Don’t ask about Emma or organic farming practices.”

  “Um, okay. I can understand the Emma situation, but what’s up with the farming thing?”

  Ruby shakes her head before sighing. “I’ll explain it in detail later. Right now, suffice it to say, I’m worried the woman I’ve picked out for my younger son might be too feisty for him.”

  “Curious. I look forward to hearing more.”

  Ruby visibly shudders. “James is particularly hard to find a match for. He might go down kicking and screaming, but I promise I’m going to get him settled if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing Addie and Brogan together again. Things didn’t look so good yesterday when we arrived,” Libby suggests.

  “I’m glad things didn’t go smoothly. That would have meant they’re ambivalent toward each other.”