by Lee Karr
“Not according to the weathermen,” he countered. “Clearing by noon is their prediction. By the time we get to the lodge and have something to eat, the sun should be shining and the wind over the lake just begging for a sail to fill.”
He was in such a good mood that she decided not to remind him that predicting the weather in Colorado was more of a guessing game than a science. She’d lived in Colorado long enough to know the Continental Divide played havoc with the predicted passage of storms across the state. Maybe the heavens would clear as predicted and maybe they wouldn’t. She looked at Cassie’s contented face and decided it didn’t matter. The whole emphasis of the day’s activities had changed as far as she was concerned. Watching Cassie and Clay interact with each other was a bonus she hadn’t expected.
“Wait a minute. Let me change. I had decided that it was going to be another Saturday at home.”
He raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t give him a chance to say anything. She disappeared into the bedroom and slipped into a navy-blue-and-white jumpsuit she had planned on wearing before the weather had changed her mind. She gave her hair a quick brush before clipping it back on the sides with a couple of barrettes. Grabbing a red waterproof jacket, she returned to the living room and said, “Let’s go.”
They put Cassie in a booster car seat between them as they drove on Interstate 70 into the mountains. Clay kept glancing at his uncommunicative daughter. Once he tried to bring her into the conversation by pointing out a buffalo preserve that bordered the highway. “Look, Cassie. See the buffalo! Big fellows, aren’t they?”
Cassie didn’t even look in the direction he pointed. She shut him out as effectively as if he weren’t even sitting beside her. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, and some of the lines came back into his forehead. Tyla saw a quiver of tightness in his cheeks. She knew how much he must be hurting inside.
She resisted the temptation to offer any advice. She wanted to warn him that the emotional separation from his daughter was only a symptom of something much deeper than a day’s outing could correct. If he pushed too hard, he would only reinforce Cassie’s belligerence. Undoubtedly he had great hopes for this chance to bring down some of the barriers. Tyla understood his desperation, but his expectations for the day had to be realistic. The most they could hope for was casual interaction that might build some trust between father and child.
She wanted to keep the mood light and nonthreatening if she could. Clay could send Cassie into her crustacean-like shell if she felt the least bit frightened. Tyla did her best to keep the conversation casual. “The mountains are always changing, aren’t they?”
Clay agreed. “Never the same, even in the hours of one day.”
“Just like the ocean. On sunny days the water glistens with the gold of sunshine, but on a day like this, the surf turns slate gray and you can’t see where sea and sky meet.” She smiled at him over Cassie’s head. “Cloudy or sunny, I love being outdoors.”
He felt tension easing as he looked at her. In her trim jumpsuit, short hair held back by clips and face void of makeup except pale pink lipstick, she looked more like a college student than a professional therapist. Desire leapt unbidden through him as he remembered how she felt in his arms. He turned his gaze away quickly and shifted in the seat, acutely embarrassed that she might have noticed the evidence of his lustful thoughts.
Tyla handed Cassie the stuffed bunny she’d brought with her, and he silently gave thanks that Tyla was here with him even though the day was not going to turn out the way he’d planned. He had wanted to be alone with her, sharing the thrill and excitement of wind and water, and coming to terms with the rising attraction between them. But he couldn’t turn his back on Cassie’s unexpected demands to go along.
“Are you a Colorado native?” Tyla asked as they began to climb upward over a ten-thousand-foot pass.
He nodded. “Colorful Colorado is my home state. How about you? Were you born in California? Any brothers and sisters? And when’s your birthday?”
She laughed. “Which answer do you want first? I was born in Michigan and moved to California when I was three. No brothers or sisters. We moved to the Golden State when I was a little girl about Cassie’s age.” Her expression became pensive. “My father was a doctor and we were always very close. He encouraged me in my studies and was always there for me.”
“You were lucky,” Clay said with a touch of bitterness. “I never felt close to my father.”
Tyla touched the soft mop of Cassie’s brown curls and played with one on her finger. Impulsively she said, “My father used to play games with me.”
Tyla waited and smiled inwardly when Cassie took the bait.
“What games?” she demanded in her contentious way.
“Well, let’s see,” Tyla mused as if thinking. “My father would look at a picture while I was in the next room, and when I came back, I’d look through a magazine and tell him which picture he’d been looking at. And sometimes he’d just think real hard about something and I could tell him what he was thinking.”
Cassie was silent for a long moment. Then she said, “I know what Grandfather Karl is thinking.”
The admission was so unexpected that Tyla had to struggle to keep her expression neutral. She didn’t look at Clay. Was there a telepathic link between child and man?
“Grandfather doesn’t talk,” Cassie said solemnly. “Not to grandmother. Not to Doreen. Not to anybody. Just me.”
Clay started to say something, and Tyla cut him off with a sharp look. This was no time for him to challenge Cassie.
He choked back the questions he would have liked to put to his daughter. He’d never seen any signs of exchange between Karl and his daughter as she sat playing on the floor in front of his wheelchair. All of her attention was centered on whatever toy held her interest at the moment. Cassie’s fertile imagination at work again, he thought impatiently. Telling Tyla that her grandfather talked to her was nothing more than childish make-believe. He couldn’t judge what Tyla’s experience had been with her father, but a lot of chance and random guessing usually went into any ESP games and experiments. He knew he was biased. He couldn’t help it. He wished he could put aside his prejudice, but he was afraid that this was one area in which he and Tyla would never agree.
Tyla knew exactly what the child meant by “talking.” Not verbal exchanges but telepathic communication…not in words but in feelings and impressions. From Clay’s skeptical frown, she knew he was far from convinced that any such happenings had taken place.
Despite her effort to keep Cassie talking about her grandfather, the conversation died and Tyla knew that she wasn’t going to get any more insights. She offered to read one of the books Cassie had brought along.
Clay listened to her lovely voice reading the fairy tale to his child, and his chest tightened. When Cassie had demanded to go with him that morning, he had been caught completely off guard. He hadn’t felt such happiness and hope for a long time. He glanced at the two heads pressed together over the book and he had to blink quickly to force back a sudden fullness in his eyes.
They dropped down into a high mountain valley, and Clay pointed out a cluster of buildings and a crescent lake far below. “My father bought up a large acreage years ago, built a lodge and cabins for his hunting-andfishing cronies. My older brother used to come up here with Dad summer and winter.”
“I didn’t know you had an older brother.”
“He died before his twenty-fifth birthday. Leukemia. My father never got over his death.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” He looked glum. “I never was able to fill Rodney’s shoes as far as my parents were concerned. Even though I’ve made a success of the business, my father always commented on how much better things would have been if Rodney could have been in charge.”
“Are your parents still living?”
“My father died of a heart attack five years ago. My mother lives in San Francisco and rarely com
es back to Colorado. I’m not gregarious like my father or Lynette, who used to bring some of her friends up for weekend parties. Everything is shut up except the lodge and the boathouse.”
Tyla could tell from his tone that he hadn’t enjoyed this part of their social life. She wondered why he had married a woman who didn’t seem to share any of his interests. Maybe Barry was right; Clay spent his time making money and Lynette spent hers spending it.
“I keep thinking I should sell the place but I would miss the lake.” He let his eyes slide over Cassie’s tousled head. “Maybe things will change.”
Tyla gave him a reassuring smile. Buoyed by Cassie’s admission that she and her grandfather had a psychic contact, she said confidently, “I’m sure they will.”
As they descended into the valley, a feeble sun gave the scene a soft look like the wash of a watercolor painting. Wisps of lingering fog drifted over thick stands of greenblack evergreens and nestled in hollows around the lake. A graceful log building, fashioned with a steep roof and a wide front veranda, overlooked the silver lake. Harmony of water, sky, peaks, cliffs, rocks and trees soothed Tyla’s senses. The beauty of the cloistered valley was almost unreal.
“You like it?” he asked softly.
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I like.”
Clay parked in front of the lodge, and immediately a middle-aged couple came out on the veranda and hurried down the wide steps. The man was tall and bowlegged and looked as if he’d been poured into a pair of jeans and cowboy shirt. The hefty woman wore high-bib overalls and boots as if she’d just come back from the stables.
“Glad to see you, fellow.” The man’s lean face was creased with a broad smile.
“How you doing, Stu?” Clay slapped him on the back.
“Getting along.”
“How ya doing, Cora?”
“Fair to middlin’. It’s been a while since you showed that ugly face of yours around here.” Cora peered in the car. “I see you brought the young’un with you. And—” She stopped as if she’d expected to see someone else.
Doreen, wondered Tyla. Was Cora used to having Clay bring Doreen with him?
Stu followed his wife’s glance into the car. “Oh, it’s a different lady.” He winked at Clay. “Tomcatting around, are you?”
Clay laughed good-naturedly. “Behave yourself, Stu. I want to impress this gal.”
He helped Tyla and Cassie out of the car. “Don’t believe half of what Stu and Cora tell you, Tyla,” he warned as he introduced her to them.
“Half will be more than enough to put this smart girl wise,” Cora said with a full laugh that strained the buckles on her overalls. She peered at Cassie, who was hanging back at Tyla’s side. “Well, look who’s here. Mighty glad to see you again, Cassie. I was just about to take some brownies out of the oven. Chock-full of chocolate and nuts. Want to give ‘em a try?”
Clay started to say something but quickly swallowed the words. He’s learning, thought Tyla. If he tried to push his daughter in one direction, she was certain to go in another.
Cora didn’t wait for Cassie to answer. With a wave of her hand, she said in her breezy way, “Come along, then. I’ve got lunch set out and a fresh pot of coffee.”
Stu eyed the sky as they walked up to the front steps. “Don’t know if you can plan on much sailing if it doesn’t clear.”
“Looks like the sun’s coming out,” Clay said hopefully as he took a deep breath of air. It was amazing how all of the stress of the city and his business faded away when he was at the lake. For some reason he had avoided spending much time here since Lynette’s death. He’d narrowed his life to the point that he had begun to dry up inside. Until he met Tyla he hadn’t even realized that he was still capable of deep feelings and longings. But all that had changed.
He smiled at Tyla and boldly slipped his arm around her waist as they walked up the front steps of the lodge. A slight flush rose in her cheeks as her body slightly brushed against his. The chemistry between them was like the strike of a match on flint.
Tyla looked up at him and found it hard to breathe. She might have blamed the high altitude if she hadn’t known better. She knew she should move away from the circle of his arm, but for once in her life she lacked the will to do the sensible thing. With him on one side and Cassie on the other, she had never felt such a swell of utter contentment.
She caught Cora’s frank eyes shift between them, and the other woman gave a knowing nod of her head. “About time,” she said to no one in particular.
Tyla was not prepared for the spacious interior of the Archer mountain retreat. A massive rock fireplace dominated one wall, and long hewn logs stretched from one end to the other in the steeply slanted roof. A staircase rose to a second floor and a balcony circled the main room. Knotty-pine furniture placed in conversational groupings blended with a Western decor that included rugs, paintings and carvings. Tyla could visualize the place filled with hunters and fishermen…or Lynette’s partying friends.
“Settle yourselves in front of the fire, and I’ll set out the grub,” Cora said, and marched off to the kitchen.
Her husband chuckled. “I’m warning ya, Cora’s been cooking up a storm. We haven’t had anybody around for so long, she’s gone a little overboard. Not like the good old days.” He shrugged his bony shoulders. “Guess nothing stays the same. Cora and I were just gangling kids looking for a job when your pa hired us. This is about the only home we’ve ever known.” He squinted at Clay. “We was wondering…wondering if you might be thinking of selling the place.”
“I’ve considered it,” Clay said frankly.
He remained standing as Cassie climbed up beside Tyla on the sofa and pressed against her. Her little body was stiff as she stared into the fire. “Jimmy got burned. Bad fire.”
“Yes, a fire burned Jimmy.” Tyla glanced at Clay and saw his mouth tighten. She was glad she’d told him about the incident. She put her arm around the child’s shoulders. “Cassie, not all fires are bad. You don’t have to be afraid of this fire. This is a nice fire in a fireplace.”
Cassie seemed unconvinced, and Tyla decided that this wasn’t the time or place to handle the child’s fears about fires. “Come on, Cassie.” She eased to her feet. “Let’s freshen up before lunch.”
“Main-floor bathroom is down that hall,” Stu said with a nod of his head.
Clay watched them walk away. He was grateful that Tyla had deftly handled Cassie’s apprehension about the fire. What on earth was going on in his child’s mind? Tyla seemed to understand Cassie, but he’d be damned if he did. He felt as if he were walking through a mine field—one false step and Cassie would explode into one of her crazed tantrums.
“Nice lady,” Stu said.
“Very.”
“Likes Cassie, you can tell that.”
Clay smiled. “And Cassie likes her. The kid put up a fit to come along today.”
“Seems to me it’s time you were taking charge and settling a few things. A little girl needs a mother,” Stu said solemnly. “And a man needs a woman to keep him warm at night.”
Clay laughed. “I love the way you mince words, Stu.”
“About time you listened to some straight talking. All the money in the world ain’t going to mean a damn thing if you go on the way you are.” Stu lowered his voice to a conspirator’s whisper. “Don’t let this one get away, hear?”
Clay whispered back, “I’ll do my best.”
Lunch was a pleasant affair in a small breakfast room with windows overlooking the lake. Cora and Stu kept going back and forth to the kitchen for more food and drink. The meal was a generous lunch of fried chicken, scalloped potatoes, creamed peas, fresh rolls and the promised chocolate brownies. Tyla was glad the mountain air had increased her appetite enough to do justice to the delicious food.
Clay kept looking out at the sky and water. Maybe there would be a couple of hours of clear weather before the clouds moved in again. More than ever he wanted to take Tyla out in
his sailboat and show off his abilities as a skipper. He could imagine her windblown hair and lithe body bending to the wind as they skimmed over the water. A warm feeling sluiced through him as he thought of sharing this part of his life with her.
Cassie looked sleepy. Good, he thought, but he wasn’t certain how to arrange for her to take a nap. He knew that if he made the suggestion, his daughter would find a way to stay awake.
Tyla sensed Clay’s rising impatience to finish lunch and get out on the lake. She wondered what he had planned for Cassie. She didn’t see how they could shut her out of the day’s activities until Cassie yawned and her eyes became heavy lidded.
With a promise of another story, the child willingly went with Tyla to a small bedroom on the ground floor, close enough to the kitchen for her to hear the reassuring sounds of Cora bustling around with pots and pans.
“I’ll look after her,” the breezy woman had promised.
Even before Tyla had finished the last part of The Gingerbread Man, the child had fallen asleep, clutching her bunny. Quietly Tyla slipped out of the room and joined Clay, who was waiting impatiently on the front veranda.
“Thanks for being so good with her,” he said.
“What do you think?” she asked, glancing up at the ominous sky. In the few minutes that she’d been reading to Cassie, dark clouds had lowered over the nearby peaks. The sun had completely disappeared, and she could see forked summer lightning in the distance.
“Don’t know,” he said as a quickening wind lifted the collar of his windbreaker. “Could blow over. Never can tell with these mountain storms. Maybe it will pass over. Come on. At least I can show you the boat.”
He held her hand as they headed down a grassy slope toward the lake, where a sleek yawl was tied up at the dock. The same excitement she’d felt with her father when they were preparing to rig his boat put a shine in her eyes. She couldn’t remember when she had felt so free and alive.
Before they reached the water, a loud boom vibrated overhead and huge raindrops began to fall with the force of an open faucet.
“Let’s go.” Clay pulled her into a run toward the boat. She laughed as she matched his long stride. By the time they reached the boat, water flowed down their faces from hair plastered wetly on their heads, and they looked as if they’d taken a shower without taking their clothes off.
