“I was. Until I got a stomachache.”
“When did the stomachache hit?”
“About an hour ago.”
About an hour ago—if Tucker remembered right—Will had taken off right after an early lunch with a fly rod. He’d come back whistling, changed clothes. Now, the silence.
Only one road led down from the mountaintop. One corkscrew turn followed another. Each bend and twist showed a different vista—a flash of mountain cliff, the velvet of green wooded shade, a burst of sunlight. Tucker had driven the road a million times, never tired of it. He wouldn’t use the word magical because that was too corny. But he’d never been able to put an anxious childhood behind him until settling on the mountain for good.
Growing up a MacKinnon had made Tucker determined that Will’s childhood would be different than his.
“Did you change your mind about working with Garnet?” he asked his son.
“No. Not exactly.”
“But you’re bugged about something.”
“Not exactly.”
“Could you maybe pin down some ‘exactlys’ for me?”
Will scowled. “Her place is kind of interesting. She’s okay, too. I mean, she was at school a lot. So I know she’s okay.”
“But…?” Sometimes communicating with his son was like trying to prod a bear out of hibernation.
“But she might not want me around, Dad. I don’t want her to be stuck with me.”
Because Tucker didn’t have a temper, he didn’t want to wring his ex-wife’s neck. He just calmly, rationally considered how much damn harm the woman had done to their son. “Garnet asked if you were willing to help her. She’s not even as tall as you, Will. Probably doesn’t weigh nearly as much. And there are no guys around there. She was just hoping you might be willing to do some guy-type projects with her.”
“I told you. I like that idea. In fact, I was really charged to go this morning. I don’t even care if she pays me. It’s just…”
Tucker waited. Waiting had always been fun for him. Like poking a needle at a toothache.
“…I just don’t know if I’ll know what to say to her.”
His son was worried about that? Hell, Tucker didn’t have a clue what to say to her, either. It’d taken several years of their sons being in the same class for Garnet to even recognize he was alive. And then he’d practically had to knock her down to win some conversation.
Less than ten minutes passed before they pulled into her drive. A half-dozen cars were parked in front of the shop, a variety of customers wandering around outside. Still, he noticed her first.
Her hair was bunched under a straw hat. She was wearing a sleeveless tank with the Plain Vanilla logo, shorts, sandals. She was laughing with a customer. The sun sheened on her bare shoulders and toned upper arms.
She shaded her forehead when she saw the truck, left the customer and immediately strode toward them with a smile. A smile, Tucker noted, that was for Will rather than him.
“Hey, guys.” She had a no-nonsense stride, pure girl, but still lithe and easy. “Man, am I glad you’re here, Will. I have a problem you could really help me with. It’s a secret that I just can’t share with anyone here. So I need somebody I can trust.”
“I can keep a secret,” Will promised her.
“Great. You don’t mind getting a little dirty, do you?”
“No. It’s okay. I like getting dirty.”
“No kidding?” Garnet shot Tucker a quick wink, but really, she hadn’t noticed him yet. She was still all about straight eye contact with Will. “I figured by midafternoon, we’d both need a break. But I wasn’t sure what you liked to snack on? So I got a couple different kinds of juice, made some fresh chocolate chip cookies…”
“I really like cookies.”
“Oh, thank heavens. I wasn’t sure.” She shot Tucker another wink, but unless he stood on his head, he doubted she was ever going to look at him directly.
The screen door to the store banged open, and out came Pete. Tucker wanted to scratch his neck. Petie had the same expression as his Will had had this morning. The Christian-entering-the-Romans’-lion’s-den look. The long-suffering look. The I’ll-do-this-but-you’ll-have-to-kill-me-to-have-fun look.
“Hey, Pete,” Tucker said.
“Hey, Mr. MacKinnon.” The kid was dressed appropriately. Sturdy shorts. Short-sleeved shirt. Running shoes. His hair looked like a cap, as if it’d been cut with a bowl, and framed his face, showed off his round glasses…and the half-dozen freckles on his nose.
“I’m glad we’re trying this trade thing,” Tucker said genially. “Your mom said you’re pretty good with numbers, organizing things.”
“Yeah. I am, sometimes.”
“I’m not sure anyone can organize me, Pete. Grown men have tried. But I sure could use some help if you’d be willing to give it a shot.”
The face looked a little brighter. Still five shades of glum, but not quite so miserable.
“Well, hop in and we’ll take off.”
Petie did…and for all of three and a half seconds, Tucker had Garnet’s attention. She came closer to the truck door, took off the straw hat. Her hair shivered and shook in the sun, finally freed from confinement, making him think that’s how it’d look when she woke up in the morning. Or after a nap.
Or right after making love.
That thought came from nowhere. Tucker punched his inner censor, smiled at her like a normal human being instead of the lovesick idiot he was turning into around her. “Not sure of this…” he murmured.
“You, too? I’m afraid we’ve invited a disaster on each other.”
“Yeah. I saw the expressions. Well…we’ll retrade around six-thirty?”
“Sounds right. I’ll bring Will earlier if there’s any problem or he wants to go home.” She lifted a hand.
He got it, she wanted to touch knuckles. They were, after all, in this project together. So he leaned forward to touch her knuckles, and again, she looked straight at him.
Just like that, it happened again. A wildfire of emotion, torching through his veins. Need, coiling like a snake. Want, whispering like silk through his witless mind.
His response was adolescent and annoying as hell.
But it was real.
If their sons would just go along with their crazy plan, he’d have chances to see her again. To be around her. To see if she ever peeled off that careful, friendly veneer for a man…or if she could be coaxed to.
* * *
Garnet was late—not for the first time—but there was no speeding on the twisty curves near the mountaintop. She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally saw the hand-carved sign reading MacKinnon Breakaway.
Next to her, Will immediately piped up, “Yeah, that’s us. The house is on the right, Mrs. G.”
She pulled into the driveway and braked. The plan was to drop off Will and pick up Petie—and immediately skedaddle. Her son had to be starving. She sure was.
Still, she soaked in the view for a few moments. She had to admit she’d been curious about where Tucker lived.
“The house started out as my great-grandpa’s,” Will told her. “But my grandpa just called it the lodge. But when we moved here, my dad built cabins for all the campers and retreaters to stay. He didn’t want strangers underfoot right where he lived. That’s what he said, anyway.”
“It’s really cool,” she told him.
“Yeah, I know.” Will opened the van door and hit the ground running. She followed more slowly, still studying the sprawling log home. It wasn’t really as big as a lodge, more set up as a country place that could accommodate a big family or family gatherings. Gabled roof. Two stone chimneys. Old, majestic shade trees. A veranda on the second story, wrapping around the whole house.
Garnet cou
ld easily picture waking up in the morning, sliding open the door and stepping onto that veranda, seeing for miles from that mesmerizing mountaintop.
“Hello there!” The front door suddenly opened, and a barefoot woman stepped out. “You must be Garnet. Will ran through here faster than lightning.”
“Yes. I’m Garnet.” She smiled a greeting, but on the inside, she was kicking herself from here to Poughkeepsie. Of course Tucker had a woman in his life. How could a virile guy like him not? She wasn’t surprised. At all. In any way.
Not even a little.
The woman was tall and lean, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, but also one of those “serious” safari vests with a zillion pockets. Her hair was cropped short, pale blond like cornstalks, fair skin with a light coating of tan and freckles, eyes a gorgeous blue. Garnet guessed she was several years younger than Tucker.
“Come on in. Tucker just paged that he and your son were still in the office, but they were locking up. I’m guessing they’ll be here in less than five. It’s a short hike.” The blonde reached out a friendly hand, looking her over as intently as Garnet had her. “I’m Rosemary. Want me to see if I can scare up some iced tea?”
“Thanks, but no need to. As soon as I pick up Pete, we need to head home.”
From nowhere, Rosemary suddenly laughed. “I’m just his sister, Garnet. There are three of us. Tucker’s the oldest, then Ike, and then came me, the family surprise. Anyway, I got a summons from Tucker. When anything goes wrong in the family, Tucker’s our front-line fixer, and the family’s determined I need fixing.”
That was a lot to share with a stranger, but Garnet appreciated the candid spill. “You don’t look like you need fixing.”
“Try telling my brothers that, would you? And the parents. They all think I’ve turned into a hermit.” She ushered Garnet up the porch steps, into the cooler shade, still talking. “I’m a botanist. Got a fabulous grant to study the wild orchids in South Carolina.”
“Wow. That sounds fascinating. I have a place—Plain Vanilla—where I’m growing herbs and spices. I try to concentrate on plants that grow naturally in this area. Except for vanilla, of course, but most people don’t realize that vanilla—”
“Is really an orchid. Oh, my. We’re going to get along really well. I hope Tucker doesn’t show up for eons—”
But he did, right then, pulling up in a dirt-crusted Gator. He tripped the key, jumped out, and just that fast, the yard was electrified by two hundred pounds of male, virile energy. Tucker met her eyes before she could duck. And there it was, that sipping-slow smile of his, that went to her head faster than Southern bourbon.
“It’s not my fault we’re late,” he said immediately.
“Yeah, Mom, it was all mine.” Petie leaped from the Gator and barreled toward her. “Do we have to go now? I don’t want to leave yet.”
Confusion reigned for several minutes. Rosemary claimed a hug from her big brother and started a mutually insulting sibling banter, then Will suddenly hurtled out the screen doors onto the porch, came right up to her, his face more flushed than beets, and said, “Hey. I shoulda said thank you. I forgot. I hope it’s okay if I come back.”
“Of course it’s okay. You were a terrific help,” Garnet assured him. Next to her, Petie tried to engage Tucker in some sort of technical business regarding the camp website. They might as well have been talking Swahili, for all Garnet understood.
Tucker seemed to manage the multiple conversations just fine…until he suddenly put up a hand in a signal for silence. “Hey. Everyone chill for a couple minutes. Just a couple minutes. I’d really like to take Garnet to the Tower. We’ll make it the quickest trip on record. But she told me she really wanted to see it.”
She’d never said any such thing, but when she turned around to send him an astonished look, he was already propelling her down the porch steps with a hand at her back. He motioned toward the Gator. “That’s the chariot I use to get around the camp. Hop in.”
She did. It only took a quick minute to realize that he’d wrangled this time alone so they could pass notes on how their kids responded to the afternoon.
“You first. How’d it work out with Will?” he asked.
They were already a distance from the house, and after a sharp curve, she saw the sign for the Breakaway office. Where Petie had hung out that afternoon? She wanted to ask, but then he glanced at her…with one of those looks.
She’d never had a chance to change before bringing Will home, which meant she was still wearing old Tevas, a paisley tie for her hair, the usual Plain Vanilla shirt and shorts…and some extra decoration in the form of smudges and dirt. The way he gave her an up-and-down suggested she looked fine. Beyond fine.
The man needed glasses or medication for dementia…but he quit with the monkey business, once she answered his question about Will.
“You told me Will was ultra shy with women? Tucker—he talked my ear off. I know more about your family than you probably wanted me to hear. I know about the girl he likes. What he thinks of his mother. How he doesn’t see much of his grandma and grandpa, but your sister and brother are regulars in his life. He told me heaps of things that are none of my business, but I swear, I didn’t ask him—and would never have asked him—personal questions.”
The Gator stopped. Tucker’s jaw dropped. “Will talked?”
“Nonstop.”
“My son. Talked. With you. You’re positive?”
She wanted to laugh. “I didn’t do anything special. Except trust him. I told you last week that I’m the only one who handles the vanilla. Which is true. But that means sometimes I’m overwhelmed with the amount of work in the vanilla greenhouse, so I took him there, showed him what I was trying to do. And your Will—he just dove in, like a fish for water. He worked harder than me…and trust me, I can usually outwork any three people blindfolded and in my sleep.”
Tucker still looked stunned. She wasn’t sure he was listening. “Anyway, Will’s welcome as many afternoons as he wants to come. I tried to give him an overview of the things I do, so he could pipe up if anything particularly interested him. The only concern I had was…well, he’s still just ten. I don’t want to overwork him. And I don’t know if you want him on tractors or lawn mowers, that sort of thing.”
By then Tucker had started the Gator again. They passed cabins, crossed over a wooden bridge, rode beside a diamond-dancing stream. Rhododendron draped the banks, their hot-pink flowers in full bloom, lush and rich. Garnet was still inhaling the views when Tucker finally turned the key.
“This is it. It’s an observation tower, but we just call it the Tower. Special view from there. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
She climbed off the Gator, viewed the eight sets of crooked stairs aiming mighty high. “No, not at all,” she assured him…although the backs of her thighs creaked and groaned by the time she’d made it halfway, and the last quarter of climbing was sheer punishment. But then…they reached the lookout platform.
She had to swallow. They owned the mountain from here. A pair of eagles nested in a crevice of rock. The forest below glistened from the day’s rain, making smells all fresh and sharp. Pine. Earth. Verdant sweetness. And far below, the view of blooming rhododendron was even more breathtaking.
“Magic,” she said.
He leaned against the wooden rail. “Yeah. That’s just how I feel whenever I come up here. It’s good for anyone, everyone. Kids even forget they have a cell phone for a little while.”
She cocked her head. “And I could stay here all night. It’s beyond wonderful. But…somehow you’re not mentioning how your afternoon went with my Pete.”
“Yeah, well. Our afternoon didn’t go so well.”
Garnet couldn’t guess what he was going to say, but Petie hadn’t wanted to go home, had been chatting with Tucker ten for a dozen—so how bad
could a problem be? And Tucker looked so right up here, with the wind combing through his hair, his skin all weathered… He had some dirt on him, no different than she did, but her draw toward him had nothing to do with scuffed shoes or hair that hadn’t seen a brush in hours. He’d be arresting anywhere, in a tux or on a beach. He was so part of his sky-high mountain here. Wild. Free.
“Your son,” he said, and sighed, the sound of a frazzled man. “I started with him in the office, only because I had to pick up some staff badges before a group of kids arrived. Unfortunately, the office was as far as I could budge your Pete.”
“I tried to tell you he’s not very motivated toward sports—”
“It had nothing to do with that. We never had a chance to even try any outside activities. He took one look at my office and said, ‘Wow, you’re even worse than my mom.’”
“Uh-oh,” Garnet murmured.
“He said your office looked like heaps. Heaps of this and heaps of that. He said he was paying your bills online until you put a stop to it. He said—that you said—that shouldn’t be his responsibility. Because he’s a kid, and you’re the adult.”
“Well…I did say that. I mean, I’m doing okay, but I have cash-flow problems now and then. I didn’t want him worrying about our finances, much less at his age.”
“Hold it. I wasn’t trying to pry. I was just trying to explain what happened. Your son took one look at the office, plunks down at my desk, in my office chair, with an expression like he just won the lottery.” Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. His face expressed bewilderment at how things with her Petie could possibly have gone so wrong. “He was talking to me like I was the kid.”
“Oh, well, he does that.” Garnet added, “Pretty much all the time.”
“My high-school group showed up. The summer staff was ready to take them on—but I always meet a new group up front, introduce myself, try to make everybody feel welcome and comfortable, give them the basic plan. Point being, I had to be out of the office for a little while. Say a half hour?”
Little Matchmakers Page 5
