Lake Dreams

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Until now, Cole never realized how angry he’d been with a god who allowed his kids to die or how high a wall he’d erected around his faith to hide it. Listening to Maggie’s pure voice, he understood God sent joy to his people, a joy to dance about even when the devil’s on your back. In his grief, he’d shut himself off from joy and wallowed in sorrow. In Maggie’s voice, he heard echoes of his children’s laughter and Cole moved his lips, singing along with Maggie without sound. As soon as she finished, she came to the pew and slid in beside him.

  Cole reached out and squeezed her hand, speechless with emotion. As the pastor took the pulpit and began to preach, Maggie handed him a tissue from her purse and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, mopping away his tears. “I’m good, Maggie. Your song touched me.”

  Maggie slipped her arm through his and leaned against him. Her whisper came like a breath of wind, for his ears only, “I’m glad.”

  Although the sermon lasted a full thirty minutes and the volume grew with each new point the preacher drove home, Cole didn’t hear a word of it. His mind reflected on the song but his awareness of Maggie beside him increased until he thought of nothing but her and where their friendship might go from this point.

  Her soft perfume permeated his nose and beneath it Cole smelled her lavender shampoo. Each breath she drew Cole felt and when the congregation joined in song, her voice matched his. Since he came to Branson, Cole’d known several quiet moments with Maggie but this one eased his inner turmoil in a different, more powerful way.

  The thought struck him he belonged with Maggie and maybe he’d find his way home with her help.

  He liked it the idea enough almost to forget the idea scared the hell out of him.

  Chapter Nine

  Monday dawned hot, the air sticky and humid before the anticipated storms. Cole hadn’t slept until deep in the night and awakened too early, lethargic. Cole dawdled in bed for awhile. His muscles ached from all the outdoor work he’d done over the weekend, more today than before just as he expected. The second day or third day always seemed to be the worst. A dull ache throbbed in his skull too but Cole blamed it on fatigue and maybe hunger.

  After church, they’d gone out for pie but never ate any supper. Last night, Cole didn’t mind but now hunger drove him out of bed, groaning as he moved his stiff joints and weary muscles. He made coffee and nuked a couple of frozen waffles in the microwave. Even slathered with some butter flavored margarine they tasted like dry cardboard and Cole decided he wouldn’t buy them again. The real food he’d eaten at Maggie’s since his arrival reminded him what pathetic crap he’d been eating.

  Cole turned on the Weather Channel to hear their take on the approaching storm front. He filtered out facts through their incessant patter. Just as he thought, the potent system had the potential to pack a major punch when it arrived. Cole shut off the television with a muttered curse. His professional interest faded in the wake of Maggie’s fear. As if his thoughts summoned her like a genie from a bottle, his cell phone rang and he snatched it up. He’d given her the number last night so she didn’t have to trot up the hill to get in touch.

  He tempered his voice to gentle. “Good morning.”

  “Hi, Cole,” Maggie said, her tone pouring into his ear like warmed butter over biscuits. “Did I wake you up?”

  “Naw,” he said as he stretched. “I’ve been up awhile. What’s going on?”

  She laughed and he liked the sound. “Well, not much yet but it’ll be busy as soon as people start checking out. I think everyone except leaves today, preferably by noon but I expect a straggler or two. I always have at least one. After they’re gone, I’ve got to clean all the cabins, change the linens, and get each one ready to rent just in case.”

  “Do you have any advance reservations?”

  “I do but not until the weekend,” Maggie said. “Until then its catch as catch can. We’ll probably get a few guests during the week. I hope so, anyway. But I called before everything got too busy so you wouldn’t think I got uppity or something.”

  Cole chuckled. “I’d never think you were snooty,” he said. “But it sounds like you’ll be busy. Want some help?”

  “I could use some later, cleaning,” Maggie said and he caught the delighted note in her voice. She’d been fishing and reeled him in but he didn’t mind. “Thanks, Cole.”

  “De nada,” he replied. He hoped the worst of the weather would hold off until they finished the work. “How about afterward we watch a movie and maybe share a pizza or something?”

  “Sure,” Maggie said. “That’d be great. What’re you doing until later?”

  Cole hadn’t decided yet but he made up his mind now. “I thought I’d go fishing off the dock, maybe catch a few.”

  “Sounds like fun. I wish I could join you but not today,” Maggie said with a sigh. “So this afternoon, you’ll really help with the cleaning?”

  “Yeah, I told you so.”

  “That’ll help a lot,” she replied. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Okay,” Cole told her. “Holler if you need me before.”

  “I will.”

  The fish wouldn’t mind if he smelled so his morning shower could wait. Cole gathered up his fishing stuff and headed down to the dock. He passed a couple of families loading luggage into their trunks. Cole didn’t envy them, driving back to wherever home might be and returning to the daily grind in the morning. At the lake, he inhaled the familiar aroma of water, loam, and wind with pleasure. Cole settled down into a rickety chair perched on the dock, baited a hook with a fly from his vintage tackle box and cast out into the waters of Lake Taneycomo. Then he waited with the patience he’d lacked as a child when he tried to fish with Pop in this same spot.

  Cole drifted into an almost mindless repose, aware of his surroundings but comfortable within and without. The over the counter meds he’d taken for his headache and muscle aches kicked in and he relaxed, loving the sweep of water beneath the wide sky. Although it remained overcast, he liked the symmetry of nature all around him but Cole’s professional eye noted the absence of any wind, not even a slight puff. It confirmed the possibility of a storm later. Despite the threat, Cole basked in the solitude until he felt the first tug on his fishing line, tentative and then stronger. He played the reel, fumbling for a moment until he caught his stride. Cole leapt to his feet and fought the pull as the rod dipped and bowed, doing his best to control it even as he reeled whatever bit in to shore.

  It took a few minutes but Cole enjoyed the contest of wills, man against fish, and when he reeled in the five pound white bass, he entered his element. Exhilaration fueled his end of the struggle and Cole succeeded in landing it. With dexterity he didn’t know he still possessed, he removed the writing fish from the line, avoiding the hook, and attached it through the gills onto the stringer. Then he dangled it back into the water to keep the fish alive and fresh until later when he’d release or clean it. If he could catch several more the same size, he’d fry fish for Maggie at suppertime.

  Within the hour Cole caught three more and placed each on the stringer. He’d swear the fish were jumping to be caught but Cole recalled they normally bit well in advance of weather. By mid morning, the day grew hot and although it remained cloudy, Cole suspected he might be getting a touch of sunburn. The sticky, close humid day made fishing less enjoyable but about the time he thought about giving it up, Maggie arrived with a tall glass of sweet ice tea, brewed dark brown and strong just the way he liked it.

  “Hey,” she said as she walked sure-footed on the floating dock. “I thought you might be getting thirsty.”

  “I was, thanks,” Cole said as he took the glass from her hand. “I’ve caught enough bass to have a fish fry instead of pizza if you’d like.”

  She sat down in the other chair and nodded. “Sounds good as long as you plan to clean and cook the fish yourself.”

  “I do.”

  Her smile lit up the day with brightness. “All right, the
n I’m looking forward to it. You’re getting sunburned.”

  “Am I?” he asked. “You mean it this time?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Maggie said. “Didn’t you put on sunscreen?”

  “Nope,” Cole answered. “I never do use any goop. It just makes me slimy.”

  “You really should,” she chided, then added, “Well surely you used some insect repellent.”

  “Didn’t use it either,” Cole said, unable to keep from grinning. “I don’t like it. It smells too much like bug spray for me. Besides, I haven’t needed any.”

  He spoke too soon because one of the biggest mosquitoes he’d ever seen lit on his arm and bit. Although he smashed it, he didn’t nail it soon enough and the resulting welt itched like crazy. Too late, Cole remembered mosquitoes stirred in advance of storms, too.

  “Famous last words,” Maggie said with a laugh. “You should put some on, though. Some people come down with West Nile virus and it sounds nasty.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Cole told her and believed it. He seldom got sick, not even with colds or flu most of the time. His recent stomach issues were outside the norm for his health but he’d figured it had to be the physical reaction to his tragic loss, tempered with a boat load of guilt.

  “I hope so,” Maggie said. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Cabin #3 is almost ready to check out. I’ll see you after while, ‘kay?”

  “Sure, honey,” Cole said as the endearment slipped out without conscious thought or plan.

  She noted it and smiled but didn’t comment. Cole watched her walk away from him and admired her stride, the easy rhythm of her walk. A rush of desire stiffened his cock and he sighed, remembering her kisses. Maybe his fish fry would lead to something more, he thought, and perhaps he was ready to take the next step. Before he could think any deeper about it, a huge tug on his line captured his full attention and Cole spent the next few minutes struggling to reel in something large. He almost lost it more than once but in the end, reeling hard and jerking the rod with enough force he feared it might snap in half Cole brought in the biggest bass yet, at least a seven pounder. The huge fish fought as he transferred it from hook to stringer and after the epic battle, he decided he’d quit for the day.

  Cole carried his stringer in one hand, pausing long enough at the office to show his catch to Maggie and took them up to the cabin. He cleaned and gutted them all. Then he cut them into boneless fillets, narrowly missing cutting his finger to the bone in the process. He did slice the flesh enough to bleed but it wasn’t deep. Cole poured some peroxide over the cut and stuck an adhesive bandage in place. Once done, he put the fish into the refrigerator and checked the cabinets. He didn’t have most of what he’d need to fry fish although Maggie might so he ambled down to ask her.

  He waited as she checked out a family from Kansas and inquired if she had corn meal, Cajun salt free seasoning, lemon pepper and some corn oil. Her kitchen yielded two out of four items so he decided he’d make a run to Country Mart over at Hollister.

  “Need anything else?” he asked but she shook her head.

  “I can’t think of anything,” Maggie told him. “Thanks.”

  Cole hesitated. “I don’t guess you have time to ride with me?”

  She spread out her hands in a helpless gesture. “No but I wish I did.”

  “So do I,” he said. “Well, I’ll run over there and be back soon. If you think of something you need, just give me a call.”

  “Sure,” Maggie said, and added, “Be careful, Cole. There’s a lot of traffic on the road and people get a little crazy heading home.”

  “I will,” he said, savoring her admonition. Until Cole reached the main road, he thought she was a little overprotective but when he saw the number of vehicles sharing road space, most driving too fast and erratic, Cole changed his mind. Maggie’s caution sprang out of common sense, not unbridled anxiety.

  Inside the supermarket, Cole decided everyone who didn’t head home came to restock their empty cupboards. All the aisles were crowded with people and shopping carts. Cole navigated through the congestion to pick up what he needed and tossed in a bag of salad greens at the last moment. He checked out, left the parking lot and drove less than a mile before he hit a traffic snafu. Far ahead, he saw the trouble – an accident. Although the humid day couldn’t be compared to the November evening when his family died, the sight of the red and blue emergency lights flashing soured his mood. The harsh wail of an ambulance heralded its’ arrival and he watched it thread through the crowd to the wreck.

  Cole rolled down the window then turned off the ignition. Other drivers got out to walk up and down, craning their head for a better view. He quit paying any attention but unless he’d been deaf, he couldn’t have missed hearing two of the looky-loos say,

  “I hear at least one of them up there is a fatality.”

  Rage fired within and Cole wanted to step out of his vehicle to dress the speaker down, ask him how he’d feel if his family perished in an accident but he didn’t. His anger marked a new development. Cole wondered if it might be better than choking on bitter misplaced guilt or suffering physical pains over it. He could chew on fury and spit out the leavings but grief wasn’t as simple to expel. Twenty minutes after the traffic halted, more than forty five since he left Lake Dreams, his cell phone rang and he answered it before he even checked the caller.

  “Hello.”

  “Cole?” Maggie said. “Everything okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he told her, to ease her fears. “But there’s been a bad accident so I’m stuck in traffic.”

  “Thank God you’re not involved,” she sighed. “I heard a lot of sirens and worried.”

  He grinned, despite the situation. “I thought maybe you’d have one of your feelings and know it wasn’t me.”

  “I didn’t really think it was,” Maggie said. “But I still worried so I called you anyway. It’s better than just sitting here wringing my hands.”

  “Yeah, it would be,” he told her.

  Her voice tempered back to serious as she asked, “I know you’re all right but are you okay with what’s happened or does it trigger memories?”

  As always, her intuition surprised him but it also pleased Cole. “It’s a little hard,” he admitted. “But it’s different this time.”

  “How so?”

  “I got angry instead of tearing myself up with grief and guilt,” Cole explained. “It upset me a little bit but I think it’s an improvement.”

  “I think so, too,” Maggie said. “You’re dealing with it and that’s the important thing.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “You are,” she told him. “When you get back, come on down. I’m about to start cleaning because I just have one more bunch to check out.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Cole said.

  “Great. I’ll fix you a sandwich when you get here if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m starving,” he admitted.

  Cole endured another ten minutes but when the road didn’t clear he decided to take a chance and follow some of the cars pulling out of line. He didn’t know where in hell he was headed but Cole figured they must know so he trailed behind and worked his way around a series of unfamiliar back roads. He ended up near the bridge, close enough to find his way back. As he crossed over the lake, window still down, he felt a breeze rush across his face and glanced southward to see the mass of clouds advancing. The cool wind contrasted with the humid heat and Cole shivered at the difference in temperature.

  At Lake Dreams, he took his purchases up to his cabin then jogged down to meet Maggie at the office. Cole didn’t see any remaining vehicles around so he figured all the guests must’ve gone home. Rain pelted down, fast and hard as he dashed around to the back door and just as he opened the screen, a gust of wind buffeted him and almost captured the door from his hands.

  “Come on in,” Maggie called. “Is it raining yet?”

  “Pouring,” Cole shouted over the din.
>
  “Are we going to have any serious storms?” she asked as she entered the kitchen.

  Earlier he’d thought so but something had shifted and Cole doubted they’d see any severe weather. “We may see a little lightning with some thunder and wind but I don’t think anything major’s going to happen,” Cole told her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  The worry line divided her forehead eased and Maggie nodded. “Good. I made sandwiches and after lunch, we’ll start cleaning. There’s not a lot to do – I’ve already stripped the beds and washed most of the linens. We’ll remake them, clean the bathrooms, put everything back in order, and vacuum the floors, drapes, and stuffed furniture.”

  It sounded like a great deal to Cole, unused to household chores but he smiled, “Okay, Maggie.”

  He sat down across the table from her and they ate, chatting about small things, listening to the sound of the rain drumming down on the roof with a comforting and familiar sound. Even the distant rolls of thunder lacked any threat and the few bursts of lighting weren’t dangerous.

  Cole liked watching the storms but for her sake, he was glad they were falling apart en route. Weather, he mused, watching Maggie, was like a woman, unpredictable and fascinating. He noted the fine line of her lips and admired the way her hair kissed the edge of her cheek, subtle beauty he couldn’t deny he enjoyed.

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie might be a pretty woman but damned if she wasn’t a tough taskmaster. By the time five o’clock rolled around and they finished cleaning the last cabin, Cole’s aching muscles threatened to go on permanent strike and his sweat damp clothes reeked. He might have minded more except Maggie’s condition matched his. Her hair, carefully put up in a bun before they launched their cleaning frenzy, drooped. Several strands straggled free. A dirt smudge marked her cheek but Cole didn’t think it hurt her appearance at all.