“How long has he been gone?” I ask.
“Ten months. I cyber stalk him on social media and have discovered that Nubian goddesses like myself are no longer his type. He’s developed an interest in skinny blondes with boobs that need their own zip code.”
“I’m sorry. That must really hurt.”
She shrugs. “He’s not the only one who wondered what else was out there. The difference is that I knew I loved him, and he and our family were my priority. I would have never walked away from him out of curiosity of what I was missing.”
“Men,” I bemoan for lack of knowing what else to say.
“How about you? Any love interest in your life?”
“There was someone I was hoping to date, but I wound up here and my best friend Elle seems to be staking a claim.”
“That’s horrible!” she exclaims.
I tell her the whole story about Grand Cayman, so she doesn’t think poorly of Elle. “I gave her my permission. It would have probably only been a vacation romance, if that.”
“What about Brogan?” she asks. “He’s a good-looking guy with a great job. And he loves his mother. Those qualities aren’t a dime a dozen these days.”
I’m obviously attracted to him, but I don’t know that I’ll ever feel like I’ve evened the score card with him. “He lives in Oregon and I live in New York. I travel enough for work without adding that kind of complication.”
“But he’s cute, right?” she persists.
“If we didn’t have such a sordid past, I would definitely do a double take,” I confess.
After eating swedish meatball leftovers, Cheryl keeps me company while I spray the finishing coat of paint on the bathtub. “Are you going to hang a curtain?” she asks.
“I wasn’t planning to. I mean if you’re so into nature that you want to glamp, why not soak in a bubble bath and enjoy your surroundings?”
“What about people who are traveling with kids or friends?” she asks.
“Good point. Maybe I’ll get a privacy screen that can be brought out for them.”
“You’d be fine taking a bath without one?” She sounds unsure.
“I want to see what’s out there, so I know whether or not to get up and run for my life.”
“That makes sense. Our fifth wheeler had a shower. I love nature as long as I’m clean. You know what I mean?”
“Um, yeah. Why do you think I’m so motivated to get this tub ready?”
“You could light some candles and drink a glass of wine. It could be downright romantic out here.”
She’s right. One of the cabins could be marketed as the bridal suite for nature lovers. A large family could rent them all out for a family reunion. I start to get excited thinking about all the marketing possibilities for the Willamette Valley Glamping Resort.
Billy wanders into the clearing and stares at us for a long minute before asking, “Girl, what are you up to?”
I give him my whole spiel and wait for him to share his opinion, but he doesn’t. He just looks around until he spots the tent. “What’s that for?”
“You,” I tell him. “I know you like to sleep out under the stars, but I thought it might be nice to have some shelter at night.” I jump and run over to it, all the while explaining, “It’s got window flaps you can open so you can have a nice cross breeze, and you can keep the front flap open all night if you want.”
Billy still doesn’t comment on my improvements. Instead, he turns to Cheryl and says, “Tell your dad thanks for the worms. They worked like gangbusters.”
“He was hoping you might want to fish with him sometime. He says you haven’t been at your usual spot in a while.”
Billy replies, “Tell him I’ll head back there for a couple days if he wants to meet me.”
“I’ll pass it on,” Cheryl says.
“There are leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” I tell Billy. “We already ate.”
He nods his head and walks toward the cabin. “Sounds good.”
Once he’s gone, Cheryl asks, “Is he staying out here with you?”
“He’s protecting me,” I explain. “He showed up the first night and slept on the porch, so I didn’t have to worry about anything.”
“He’s a good egg. He and my dad have been fishing together since I was a little girl.”
“Do you ever think he’ll move into a real house?” I ask.
“I think Billy plans to carry on as he always has. But I worry about him now that he’s getting older.”
We sit quietly for a while, both lost in our thoughts. I wonder a lot of things about Billy Grimps, but mostly I’m just grateful to him for helping me out. Maybe by the time I leave I can help him find a more permanent situation. Not that I think he needs to be like everyone else, but the truth is that we all need people.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Mothers
Ruby: Happy Birthday, my friend!
Libby: I remember being a little girl thinking that I’d be in my forties in the new millennium. I couldn’t imagine ever being that old. And look at me now.
Ruby: There’s only one way to stop the hands of time, and believe me, I don’t recommend it.
Libby: Life sure does become more precious doesn’t it?
Ruby: It’s achingly sweet. I just want to make sure my boys get to experience the better parts of living for as long as they can.
Libby: You’re doing your part, Rube. They’re either going to fall in line or not, but it won’t be for your lack of trying.
Brogan
Addie’s cabin has become Grand Central Station. There are trucks driving by right and left. Last night, I swear I saw Cheryl Wilkens while I was on my way to the outhouse. I have no idea what that’s all about, unless Addie has figured out a way to get the market to deliver groceries for her. I wouldn’t put it past her.
I decide to head into the lodge for a shower and breakfast that I don’t have to cook for myself. I’d never say this out loud, but the thrill of the fishing cabin is losing some of its appeal. In other words, I like my luxuries as much as the next guy.
Once I’m clean and seated in the dining room waiting for food, I pull out my phone to check for messages. There are a bunch of people trying to sell me stuff, my agent, and—surprise, surprise—three voicemails from Emma.
The first two simply ask for me to call her back. In the third, she says, “Brogan, this is juvenile. You’re a grown man and you owe it to me to return my call and hear what I have to say. Please.”
Where in the world did she get the idea that I owe her anything? There’s no way I’m going to call her. I try not to let my irritation ruin my breakfast, but it sure doesn’t do much for my digestion.
Halfway through my waffles, my mom comes into the dining room. She likes to walk around and make sure everyone is happy. When she gets to my table, she demands, “What are you doing here?”
I motion toward my plate. “Eating.”
“Why?” she demands.
“I’m hungry. Isn’t that why people usually eat?”
“Don’t be smart,” she says. “I mean why are you eating here and not at the cabin?”
“I wanted waffles,” I tell her.
“I see. So, Addie can’t eat here or use any of the facilities, but you can?”
She makes it sound like I’m the one breaking the bet. “We already know I can rough it. The wager is based on whether or not Addison can.”
“Uh-huh.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “I think that in good faith you should prove you still have what it takes to make it out in the woods. I think maybe you’ve gotten soft.”
“That wasn’t what the bet was all about, Mom,” I hurry to defend myself.
“Scared you can’t do it and Addie will show you up?”
“No.” Pleeeeaaase.
“Then you need to walk on out of here and prove you’re as tough as Addison Cooper.”
What’s going on here? “Mom,” I try again, “you bet me five th
ousand dollars that Addie could stay out there, not me.”
She shakes her head. “I’m invoking my parental right to add a stipulation to the terms. You need to do everything you expect Addison to do. Fair is fair.”
“Can I at least finish my breakfast?” I ask, thoroughly annoyed.
She reaches over and picks up my plate. “No.” Then she walks away.
I don’t know if there’s a full moon or Mercury is in retrograde, but the whole world feels screwy right now. First, my mom starts acting all weird, then Addie shows up, followed by Emma. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the universe was gunning for me.
I throw some money down on the table before leaving. Passing the front desk, I call out to Chris, “Hey.” She waves, but she’s busy with a guest, so I keep on walking out the front door.
Today is going to be a hot one for sure. Within five minutes, my t-shirt is sticking to me like a second skin. I decide to head up to the falls for my daily swim.
For some reason, I feel an agitation that I’ve never experienced when staying in the cabin. I played solitaire for hours last night before unwinding enough to fall asleep. Also, my butt itches like crazy. It must look like a real sight with the way I’ve been scratching it.
After changing into some shorts and a dry t-shirt, I grab a towel and an energy bar. Then I head out again. I miss my waffles.
On the path to Copper Creek, I pass Addison. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?” I ask her.
“Good morning to you, too,” she says brightly before adding, “I’m not alone. Billy is just up ahead.”
“What are you doing?” I repeat. It looks like she’s tying colorful ribbons to tree branches, but that makes no sense at all.
“I’m tying ribbons on tree branches.”
“Why?”
“I’m marking my paths so I can learn which way leads to where. Hot pink is for the falls and citron green will take me to the lodge. Billy is tying the royal blue ones. I don’t know where those lead yet.”
“Addison, there are trail maps to help you find your way. Ribbons kind of take away from the rustic feel of the forest.”
“They shouldn’t. They’re made out of bamboo,” she tells me. “Totally natural.”
I just shake my head when she adds, “I wanted to use wind chimes, but Billy talked me out of it.”
“Have a nice day,” I say as I walk by. I realize that Addie is part of the reason I’m feeling restless and that knowledge unsettles me even more.
“Someone’s grumpy today,” she says to my back.
“I’m hot. I need to cool off,” I reply as I keep moving. I can’t quite hear how she responds because she mutters it, but it sounds remarkably like, “I’m pretty sure you’ll still be hot even after your swim.”
Is she referring to my mood or my rugged manliness? Could Addie have finally decided I’m more than the boy who used to make her life difficult? If that’s the case, maybe she’ll cut me some slack and let me court her. Could I really be thinking about starting up something with Addison Cooper?
I force the thought of romance onto the back burner, but I walk with a renewed spring in my step, nonetheless. I continue on with my morning plans, but interesting nighttime activities keep darting through my mind.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Mothers
Libby: I left a message on Addie’s phone telling her that I decided to spend my birthday with Bob.
Ruby: I’m not sure she’ll get the message.
Libby: That’s why I’m texting you.
Ruby: Thanks a lot. Please read that with the appropriate amount of sarcasm.
Libby: Will do.
Ruby: I think I’ll have Brogan break the news to her.
Libby: How will that work to our benefit?
Ruby: She might be so upset she throws herself into his arms for consolation.
Libby: Either that or she’ll kill the messenger.
Addison
I keep thinking about what Cheryl said about Brogan being handsome. It’s not like I haven’t noticed that for myself, but there’s something about another woman saying it that makes me feel … what’s the word, territorial? Ick, that’s an uncomfortable emotion to be having regarding Brogan.
Once Billy and I finish tying ribbons on the trees, we head back to my cabin. “As soon as it rains, those ribbons are going to fall off,” he tells me.
“Do you think it’s going to rain in the next month?” I don’t remember rain in Oregon during the summer.
“Probably not,” he concedes. “Do you need any help around your campsite today? I was planning on going fishing. I’ll cook supper tonight if you want.”
“That sounds wonderful, but I’m going up to the lodge to celebrate my mom’s birthday.” Surely Brogan doesn’t expect me to miss that because of our stupid bet.
“I’ll put the leftovers in the refrigerator for tomorrow then.”
Billy and I have sort of become roommates. I’m not sure what he gets out of the deal, but I get a sense of security and someone to talk to, which I appreciate beyond measure. “Would you mind showing me how to build a fire to heat my bathwater before you go?”
He nods his head. “A bathtub in the woods. Who would have thought? I’m pretty sure I haven’t been in a real tub since I came to Oregon.” I can’t tell if he sounds wistful or just confounded by this new development.
“I can’t wait to have a soak. Why don’t you take a bath tonight while I’m up at the lodge?” I suggest.
He appears to be considering my suggestion but doesn’t verbally acknowledge it. Instead he says, “I slept in that tent of yours last night.”
A ripple of happiness flows through me. “What did you think?”
“It was strange.” He doesn’t say anything else, so I don’t push.
He starts to pick up twigs and a few thin branches, handing some off to me as we go. “You’re not looking for a long-term flame, so you’ll probably only need one log. This kindling ought to get it going long enough for it to catch.”
Once Billy gets the fire started, I attach the hose to the shower nozzle before turning it on to fill up the cauldron. “Pretty clever, huh?” I ask like I’m begging for his approval.
He just stares at me like I’m a foreign life form. “You’re gonna need some kind of bath mat so your feet don’t get muddy when you step out.”
“Stay right here,” I tell him before running inside to grab another shipping box. When I come out I open it up and pull out a mat made from river rock that’s been cut in half and attached to a rubber base. “What do you think?”
“Looks like you’ve thought of everything,” he replies. I decide to take it as a compliment.
“How do you plan on draining that thing?” he wants to know.
“What do you mean? I’ll just pull the plug and let the water run out.”
“The whole area will get muddy if you do that. It’ll kind of defeat the purpose of getting clean,” he says.
Darn it, he’s right. “Any ideas?”
“Why don’t we dig a moat around the tub, and partially fill it with gravel to prevent soil erosion? That’ll keep the moisture where we want it. Then we could lay a couple boards to use as a bridge.”
“We could call it Bathtub Island!” I clap my hands in excitement.
“Okay.” He doesn’t seem as enthralled by the idea as I am.
“I wanted to take a bath today though and I don’t have any shovels.” How disappointing.
“Go ahead and have your bath, just don’t pull the stopper. I’ll pick up the shovels from the maintenance crew and start digging when I get back from fishing.”
“You’re the best, Billy!” I run inside to grab my bubble bath and towels. When I get back out, he’s already gone. Once the first pot of water is heated, I pour it into the tub and immediately get the second one going. The only downside so far is that it takes nearly an hour to heat all the water I want to use. The good news is that the boiling water stay
s hot in a cast iron tub.
I add the bubble bath before pouring in the last pan of hot water, then I slowly add just enough cold water from the shower to make it tolerable.
After surveying the area to make sure I’m alone, I gingerly step into the tub before dropping my robe and sinking in. It’s pure heaven.
Lying back, I let the warmth envelop me as tension slowly seeps out of my muscles. I don’t understand people’s love of hurrying the cleaning process by taking showers. The first thing I did when I bought my apartment in New York was to install a bathtub.
Gradually I become comfortable enough to close my eyes and really let myself go. At least until I hear a twig snap somewhere nearby. “Hello?” I call out. “Who’s there?”
“Just us cougars,” Brogan replies.
I make sure there are plenty of bubbles covering my naked bits before replying, “Ha, ha, ha. I’m taking a bath, so if you don’t mind …”
I regret saying those words the very second they’re out of my mouth. Brogan breaks into the clearing in a near jog. The smile on his face says it all. He’s got me just where he wants me. “Don’t you look cozy,” he drawls.
“Why are you here?”
“I was going to ask you over to my place for supper tonight. Looks like you’ll be smelling nice and sweet.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you won’t be smelling me tonight. I’m going to be celebrating my mom’s birthday with her.”
“That’s going to be a little difficult with her being in Amsterdam.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand. “My mom is up at the lodge with your mom.”
He shakes his head. “After you wagered that you could stay out here for a month, she decided to meet your dad at his convention in the Netherlands.”
She wouldn’t do that to me, would she? My mom usually goes along with my dad when he has business in places she likes. She didn’t go this time because it conflicted with the opening of Bainbridge Caribbean. Then Aunt Ruby needed her and here we are, in Oregon. At least, here I am …
Love is a Battlefield (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Book 1) Page 17
