“You probably ruined my clothes,” I muttered, “and my shoes.” I looked down at my gray suede, speckled with mud. I doubted I would ever get them clean.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” he sighed.
I’m being dramatic? Coming from a man who just stooped to the level of purposely throwing mud at me, that is rich! I turned and stared out the window.
“You know, I’ve got to hand it to you,” he continued. “Whatever game it is you’re playing, you are really good. I mean, standing on top of your car, all, ‘I’m beautiful and helpless.’ Nicely done.” I shot him a steely look.
“Whatever game I’m playing?”
“Yeah, you know, whether you cast a spell, or it’s some kind of Jedi mind trick, I don’t know what you would call it. You’ve just got this way about you that makes it impossible to… All I know is, that night I met you, I was practically falling all over myself.”
Cast a spell? Of all the nerve!
“If that’s true, I don’t see how you could blame it on me. Maybe you should take a good look at your own…” I paused, trying to think of a witty comeback, “…tendency toward desperation.”
“Desperation?” he said, shocked. “Don’t get on your high horse with me. What is the truth, really? You got tired of pulling your schemes on city guys and thought you would come out here and try it in the country, maybe we would be more gullible?”
And to think I actually felt guilty a little bit ago – no worries about that happening now!
“Yeah, that’s it, you caught me. Those city guys were getting so boring. I thought it would be a hoot to try my tricks on a backwoods hillbilly.”
“A backwoods hillbilly?” he barked, looking across the truck at me. “Is that what you really think of me?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” I shot back. “You just implied that I am some sort of witch, or at best…I don’t know…an evil temptress!”
“I never called you a witch,” he continued, returning his eyes to the road in front of us. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“What were you trying to say, then?” I demanded.
“Well, if I was to describe you, I would probably say that you are…infectious.”
“Infectious?” I asked with an irritated laugh. “Like a disease?” He chuckled under his breath.
“Let the record state that you said that, not me.”
Cole pulled the truck into Rosalie’s driveway, and I flung the door open and jumped out, slamming it behind me and stomping toward the house, pulling another fleck of mud from my hair as I walked.
“Camdyn!” he called after me.
Refusing to look back at him, I stepped up onto the porch, swung the door open, and walked into the bed and breakfast.
-§-
As soon as I was certain he was gone, I focused on changing my clothes, trying to remove the mud from my hair as best I could, and scrubbing at my shoes, getting angrier by the second. I was fairly certain I could get the dirt out of my jeans, but my sweater might be more of a challenge. And my shoes… I wasn’t sure what kind of mud this was, but it was absolutely horrible.
As for Cole, I might have been able to get past the fact that he pulled a prank on me had it not been for the fact that he called me a witch, and a disease! The fact that he accused me of being there to play some kind of game to convince someone to propose, that was even worse. How could he even concoct such an idea?
I lost track of how long I had been in the bathroom until Rosalie knocked on the door, asking if I was okay. I opened the door, and the look of concern on her face made my resolve crumble.
“He ruined my shoes,” I stated sadly, fighting back tears. She stepped forward and took the shoes from my hands, scowling down at them.
“Oh no, there’s got to be something we can do,” she said, motioning for me to come out of the bathroom. “What on earth happened?”
“Cole happened,” I sighed, stepping out into the living room and sinking into the couch. “I was stuck, and he happened along. I got some mud on him, purely an accident, so I guess he wanted to pay me back by throwing mud all over me. Then he said the most horrible things to me…”
“My nephew Cole said horrible things to you?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head to the side. “We are talking about the same Cole who is covered in mud and standing in my driveway washing your car right now?"
“What?”
She pointed toward the back of the house, and I stood and walked to the back door, peeking around the gingham curtains. My car was back at the bed and breakfast, and Cole was standing near the trunk, cleaning off the mud using a yellow sponge and a garden hose.
“He is such an enigma,” I whispered to myself, not realizing Rosalie had walked up behind me.
“What was that, honey?” she asked. I shook my head as I watched him scrub the back driver side tire, still covered in mud himself.
“I don’t understand him, Rosalie. He ruined my clothes on purpose, and then he practically ordered me into the truck, insulting me the entire way here. Now he is washing my car? I really should be angry at him, but he is just so…”
She chuckled and patted me on the back, resting her hand there as we stood at the window.
“You know, for some reason, the only thing coming to mind here is the old Shakespeare quote about protesting too much,” she said. I smiled at her as she turned and started sauntering down the hallway, and then I turned back to the window where Cole was using the garden hose to rinse the soap off my car.
“Hey, wait!” I called after her. “Are you talking about me, or him?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said with a laugh, disappearing into the laundry room.
Chapter Seven
I spent the next few hours writing about Willa, determined to come up with a great story before my deadline. The further I was in the process, the more I considered going with Trina’s assumption that she was a murderer, but I just couldn’t bring myself to type the words. She was my ancestor, after all, and my namesake, and I didn’t want to think her capable of that. If I could figure out the details about her departure from Richmond, all the questions might sort themselves out. Unfortunately, when I had questioned the older librarian about the records that stated she came to Tennessee in a wagon alone with a child, she had nothing to add, except that the information came from the private collection of a woman in Louisville, Kentucky.
Eventually Rosalie called me for dinner, and we sat down with spaghetti and garlic bread, watching Wheel of Fortune. We were almost to the bonus round when the phone rang, and to my surprise, Rosalie turned and handed it to me.
“It’s Jake,” she whispered with a wink. I rolled my eyes and carried the phone into the kitchen where the TV wasn’t quite as loud.
“Hello,” I started cautiously.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said. “I just wanted to find out what time you want me to pick you up tomorrow night.”
Thank goodness I have a good excuse now.
“I’m actually glad you called. I’m not going to be able to make it. Rosalie’s catering this huge wedding dinner, and she needs my help.”
“You told her about us, didn’t you?” he asked with a chuckle. “I told you she wouldn’t want you going out with me. Anyway, you’re a guest, so why do you need to help? Just blow her off.”
“There’s no us to tell her about, and I’m not going to be unkind. I told her I would help, and I have to keep my word.”
“What about keeping your word about our date, then?” he teased.
“It’s not really the same thing,” I complained, “and besides, why do you want to go out with me anyway? You don’t really know me.”
“That’s the point,” he stated matter-of-factly, “I want to get to know you. Besides, who wouldn’t want to go out with you? You’re beautiful.”
Blah, blah, beautiful, blah, blah.
“I’m sorry, Jake, but I can’t back out on Rosalie. She needs my help.”
“Well, Friday won’
t work then,” he said with a sigh. “How about I just come pick you up right now?”
What?
“No, Rosalie and I already ate dinner, and…I’m just getting ready to step out.”
Why did I have to lie?
“Okay then, if it can’t be tonight or Friday, I guess it will have to be Saturday night. That will be better anyway – I can take you to B’s, they’re having a band that night. I will pick you up at eight o’clock sharp, okay?”
No, not really.
“I don’t think…”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” Jake interrupted. “Eight on Saturday. You won’t regret it, heartbreaker.” With that, I heard a dial tone.
I regret it already.
Rosalie turned and looked at me, and all I could do was hang my head in shame while she laughed.
“I guess there are worse problems than having attractive men chase you,” she said as I sank down into the sofa beside her. “He certainly seems very persistent.”
“Too persistent,” I complained. “I don’t know how I’m going to get out of that one.”
“I’m sure you can think of something,” she smiled.
“Maybe,” I told her. “The problem is, I was planning on doing some more writing tonight, and now it seems I have to step out.”
“Why is that?” she asked.
“Because on top of being spineless, weak, and pathetic, I can’t allow myself to be a liar.” Rosalie laughed heartily at that, and I found myself smiling too, at the idiocy of the whole situation.
-§-
Not being able to come up with anything to do alone in the middle of nowhere on a Thursday night, I decided to drive around and try to find some part of that technology-forsaken section of the country where I could get a phone signal. I knew from experience that my phone worked in town, but I didn’t feel like driving that far. Crossing a bridge, I decided to pull down by the riverbank for a few minutes as a distraction. I climbed out of my car and sat on my trunk for a few minutes, listening to the frogs and the gentle rippling sound of the water passing over the rocks.
Willa would have had to cross something like this on her journey. I could only imagine how she must have felt when she arrived in this area – scared, uncertain, and alone. Hurriedly marrying someone just to survive - what a horribly sad way to live.
I was looking out in the distance in front of me, wondering if Willa had seen any of the same surroundings when she was there, when I noticed some type of abandoned forestry tower just upriver. Intrigued, I walked along the riverbank until I was close enough to see that it still looked fairly sturdy. The thought crossed my mind that maybe, if I was a little higher in the air, I might be able to get a phone signal. I walked back to my car, grabbed my phone, and headed back to the tower again. It took me a minute to realize that I would have to walk through grass that would come about mid-thigh level, and the ladder was surrounded by heavy brush.
You can’t walk through that grass, are you crazy? At the very least you’ll be covered in bugs and…icky stuff. And what about snakes?
Despite my better judgment, I found myself trudging through the grass toward the tower. I stepped on something that crunched beneath my foot, but I was too afraid to turn and see what it was. At one point my jeans caught on some thorns, and I had to stop to pull them out one by one so I could be released.
When I reached the tower, it was then I realized that the ladder only came down to about chest level. I had walked through that jungle of grass and wasn’t about to give up, so I shoved my keys and my phone in my pocket. Jumping up to grab a ladder rung, I swung my feet up to try to give myself a boost, only to fall back to the ground. On the second try, I fought to lift my feet higher and pulled up with my arms. My right foot caught the ladder and hung on the bottom rung just enough that I was able to pull myself up and get a good grip. I raised my body and climbed the ladder until I was probably twenty feet in the air and had come to a platform, and then I stopped to pull my phone out of my pocket.
Hallelujah! We have a signal!
It took a couple of minutes for my phone to recoup my messages, and then I looked to see that I had seventeen missed calls. Suddenly I was very popular – normally the only calls on my phone were outgoing. There were several from Trina, and a couple from my editor. I also had two from my landlord, probably calling to complain about the news media crawling around my apartment. There were a few other numbers I didn’t recognize.
I had five voicemails, so I began listening to them. The first was from Trina, asking why I never answered my phone and if I had returned my stolen loot. The second was from my publisher, wanting to talk about the press my book was getting. I was fairly interested in what he was saying until he mentioned the same news people that aired that horrible proposal segment about me, at which point I rolled my eyes and hit delete.
When the third message started playing, I immediately felt my blood pressure go up a notch or two.
“Hey, Camdyn, it’s Peter. Look, I’m really sorry about everything that is happening. I saw on the news that you disappeared, and I just… I hope you’re okay. And I just wanted to tell you, all that stuff they knew about you, they didn’t get that from me. I haven’t told them anything. Okay, that’s all. Bye.”
Crazy Peter. I still had no idea what he was thinking, and when I accosted him about it later he seemed absolutely mortified. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
The fourth message was another one from Trina, but the fifth one almost made me fall off the platform.
“Cam, it’s Trey. I saw that video on the news, and I can’t stop thinking about you. Listen, what happened…that was crazy. I know I shouldn’t have done that the way I did, and I get why you were freaked out. They said they couldn’t find you, and I thought maybe you came back to your brother’s house. So, are you back? Because if you are, I would love to take you to a game as a kind of I’m sorry gesture. I miss hanging with you. Call me.”
I was completely stunned. I hadn’t heard from Trey since the night he proposed to me, and that had been well over a year before. Charlie said he came over a couple of days later wanting to talk to me, but I was long gone by then. I could still remember exactly how I felt that night, standing outside by the curb waiting for Trina to come pick me up, the World Series going on inside the stadium. I missed three whole innings because of that guy, and now he wanted to take me to a game? It didn’t make any sense.
I sat down on the platform, finding a secure position, and stared out at the river again. I could see a great distance from this vantage point. Just across the bank from me I noticed two squirrels dashing back and forth, and I watched them for a few minutes before finally deciding to dial Trina.
“Hey, sis,” I said when she answered.
“Stranger,” she replied. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m alone, outside, and there are no fences, so that’s kind of cool.”
“Wow, you are in the middle of nowhere,” she stated. “You seem calmer than the last time I talked to you.”
“I’m working on it,” I sighed.
“I’m assuming your phone won’t work wherever you’re staying, since you never answer. Where are you now, outside?”
“Right now?” I asked, gazing across the river in front of me. “I am about twenty feet up perched on an old tower on the riverbank.”
“Are you being serious?” I could hear the doubt in her voice.
“Totally.”
“Get down from there, Cam. You’re going to break your neck. What are you thinking?”
“I am thinking my phone works, so I’m not moving,” I told her. She let out a deep sigh.
“Okay, then. Did you return your stolen property? And what ever happened with that guy?”
“You mean Cole? No, I didn’t return the picture, and I have seen him once, earlier today. I got stuck in the cemetery, and he came along and pulled my car out. He also threw mud all over me and completely insulted me, so I can’t say that
it was a pleasant experience.”
“That’s the second time he’s rescued you,” she said, and I could hear her teasing smile coming through her voice.
“Well, maybe next time he’ll throw me over a bridge,” I said in a snarky tone. “Never mind that, how are you and little peanut?”
“Hanging in there.”
“Good, that makes me happy.”
“Oh, you will never believe who stopped by yesterday, looking for you,” Trina said excitedly. I was already inwardly groaning, because I thought I knew the answer.
“Trey?”
“How did you know?” she asked, sounding disappointed.
“He left me a voice mail and said he wants to hang out,” I explained. She started laughing uncontrollably. “I know, right? I had a message from Peter, too. I swear, I must attract crazy men.”
“You do, Cam, although I hate to say it.”
The quiet gurgle of the water was interrupted by the sound of a truck engine, and I looked over to see Cole’s blue pickup creeping up beside my car on the riverbank.
“Speaking of crazy men,” I mumbled.
“What’s wrong?” Trina asked. “Are you stuck?”
“No,” I sighed. “Cole just showed up in his truck, and I’m afraid he’s coming over here.”
“The hunky firefighter? What does he want?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh, watching Cole step from his truck and begin walking up the riverbank.
“How good looking is he, really, on a scale of one to ten?” Trina wanted to know as I watched him stop just short of the tall grass in front of the tower.
“I would say about a thirteen,” I told her, absentmindedly gazing down at him.
“What on earth are you doing?” he yelled up at me, removing his baseball cap and swinging it at a passing insect.
“I’m on the phone,” I called back. He folded his arms across his chest and stood there looking up at the tower.
“What is he doing?” Trina whispered.
“I don’t know…staring at me,” I said.
A Reason to Run (The Camdyn Series Book 1) Page 9
