Love By Accident

by Michelle Beattie

  They rode to the tune of saddle leather creaking and hooves clomping. Matt asked her how she liked her job so far, what aspects were her favorite. When he'd used up his repertoire of small talk, a thought came to him. Danika had worked with Nick longer than he had, perhaps she could answer the question burning in his gut.

  "So, you know all the staff pretty well?"

  Danika shrugged, shifting in her saddle. "I wouldn't say that. I've met everyone, can't say I've gotten real close to any. I mean, it's not like I know everything about them."

  "What about Nick? How well do you know him?"

  "Why? Did someone say anything? 'Cause we haven't acted inappropriately or anything. He's way too old for me."

  Christ, Matt figured him and Nick were the same age. But he guessed to a young twenty-two year old a guy in his early thirties was old.

  "No, no, not like that. And if I had a problem with you Danika, which I definitely don't, I'd tell you outright. I don't play games." He directed his horse over a small rocky stream.

  "I was wondering if he and Lauren--do you know her? She works at the Mountainview. Anyhow I was wondering how long they'd been dating." Matt could only hope he didn't come across as obvious or eager. But jeez he felt like a kid who saw a treat, coveted it, but was afraid to ask for it.

  Danika's shoulders sagged in relief. "Whew. I thought you were going to tell me I wasn't coming back next year."

  Matt smiled at her. She was sweet. Very young, but very sweet. "The job's yours, Danika. I've seen how competent you are and it's been reinforced by all your co-workers."

  She beamed. "I'm glad. I love it. And to answer your question, so far as I know, they're only friends. They hang out, but I think that's all it is."

  Only friends? He ducked his head, felt a grin take over his face. Joy, and a good chunk of smugness, overcame him. So they weren't dating. Hot damn!

  "Danika?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Remind me to give you a raise next year."

  ***

  It didn't take more than another thirty minute ride to find his team. Denis was on the fringe of the dense mixed forest, his and Cal's horses happily grazing what the mountain sheep and elk hadn't already clipped clean. The deciduous trees had begun to lose their leaves and colored foliage spread out all over the small valley like nature's confetti, a scattering of red, orange and brown. Between them and the evergreens, the Tamaracks stood out like prickly orange popsicles. Despite the circumstances for his being here, Matt could still appreciate the scenery, capped off with the Rockies' silent grace standing over them.

  Denis trotted over, the horses were tied and the field gear divided.

  "Female. Five, maybe six years old going by her teeth. Wouldn't have even seen her if it wasn't for the birds," Denis said, pointing to the squawking grey jays. Their meal had been interrupted and they weren't very happy about it. "Judging by the way the tracks weave back and forth through the clearing, looks like she came here to die."

  "Natural causes?" Matt asked, following Denis through the underbrush, while the evergreen branches clawed at his pants. He held the branches so they wouldn't snap back on Danika.

  "Hard to say. The coyotes got to it before we did. Guts spread out all over. But I did find a few large clumps of blood on the ground a few yards back, before she fell here."

  "Shot to the lungs," he muttered.

  "That would be my guess," Denis confirmed.

  They'd arrived at the site and Matt greeted Cal then dropped his exam kit on the forest floor. Layers of leaves and pine needles muffled most of the noise. The smell of decomposition was ripe but easily pushed aside. Matt pulled the latex gloves from his back pocket and snapped them on.

  "Let's have a look," he said.

  Dropping to his knees he began his examination. It sure wasn't obvious what had brought down the bear, the coyotes and scavengers had done a damn fine job of removing most of the organs and entrails. Large chunks of the belly were ripped off and missing. Well, only one way to find out for sure what dropped her. He opened his kit and pulled out what he needed. He was going to have to skin it to find out.

  "Nothing," he muttered a while later, balancing onto his heels. His staff was quiet around him, waiting for his direction. His gut told him there was something here; they only had to keep looking.

  "Let's flip her over."

  He found it ten minutes later. A small patch of matted fur and beneath it, a hole not much larger than a pencil, just enough to get his small finger into it. Bingo. Entry wound. He ordered his staff to search around, told them what he was looking for. Fifteen minutes later, once he'd passed the metal detector over the entire area, including the remains, they had found nothing. That they hadn't found a casing confirmed what he suspected.

  It didn't surprise him but it didn't stop the curse from forming either. Whoever had done this knew how to hide their tracks.

  "Well damn," he said pulling off his gloves and crumpling them in his fist.

  "Poached?" Denis asked.

  "Seems so. They're not in season and most of the meat is here, same as the hide."

  "But there's not a trace of anything we can use."

  "No," Matt sighed. "With so much disturbance to her, I have no way of knowing what the poacher was after, either."

  "So what now? You want to get the word out?"

  "Not much point, Denis. The culprit is likely long gone." And the son-of-a-bitch would never pay for the dirty crime. Which in Matt's eyes, was worse than the crime itself.

  EIGHT

  Lauren blew out the last of the vanilla votives lining her tub, pulled the plug and stepped out of the now cool water. She drew the bath sheet around her shoulders as the CD player on her vanity poured out the sultry sounds of Diana Krall.

  Once she was dry, she re-wrapped the towel around her torso, shut off the music and opened the door.

  A clinking sound from her kitchen stopped her dead. Panic was instant. Who was there? Oh God, someone had broken in! And she was naked, totally vulnerable without a weapon in sight. Frantic, she looked around and grabbed the first thing within reach, her hair spray. It would have to do.

  Despite every time she'd cursed a heroine in a horror movie for walking smack into the killer rather than running, Lauren nonetheless found herself doing the same thing. The only advantage she had on her side was the element of surprise and she intended to use it.

  Holding the towel in place with one hand, she clutched the spray with the other. On bare feet she tiptoed to the kitchen.

  The intruder was sprawled on the floor, his upper body hidden in the cabinet beneath her sink. At his feet was an opened red toolbox. Lauren nearly dropped her weapon. Nick had come to fix her taps. She exhaled jerkily and starting inching her way back into the hallway. Letting Nick see her nearly naked was not going to help keep him at arm's length.

  "Hey, I didn't hear you come in. I'll be right out, okay?" she said.

  Her comment was met with a grunt followed by the loud clang of a dropped tool as it hit the floor.

  Fleeing into her room, she threw on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She completed the outfit with thick wool socks. It wasn't attractive; it wasn't meant to be. Her plan had been to have a long bath followed by a cup of hot chocolate and a movie. Since she didn't feel like dressing twice, she opted to put her pajamas on as planned. But she added a bra. She didn't want to send Nick mixed messages.

  But when she strode in the kitchen, hair tied up in a ponytail, face free of makeup, she noticed right away that the legs covering her faded floor weren't Nick's. Not because Nick was short, but he tended to be longer in the body than in the legs. And these legs were definitely long. Clad in well-fitting black denim, these limbs were muscular. And they stretched forever. As her gaze travelled up their length, she realized that no, they didn't go on forever. They did, however, lead to a very nice package.

  Oh, God, what was she doing? If it wasn't Nick underneath her sink, it sure as heck wasn't five-feet-five inch Carl
os either. And Ted was on the island. That only left one person. Matt.

  She'd been eyeing Matt's package. Worse, she'd reacted to it. This was Matt for heaven's sake!

  He slid out from under the sink. Despite her mortification, she had nowhere to hide. She plastered on what she hoped would be a casual smile. Not an I've-been-checking-you-out one.

  "I hope you don't mind," he said, levering himself up. "I knocked and you didn't answer. The door was unlocked so I let myself in. I'm surprised you didn't hear me since that thing shrieks louder than a one-year-old having a tantrum."

  He'd been in the kitchen while she'd been naked in the other room?

  He grinned, standing way too close for her peace of mind. "Must have been some hot bath you had, your face is still flushed."

  Well, at least she had a viable excuse for her burning cheeks. "You had nothing better to do than come play plumber?"

  His eyes sparkled. "Why, would you prefer I played doctor?"

  For a second, she really did. She forced herself to remember it was Matt asking, not some handsome stranger with dark hair who wore a button down navy shirt with the top two buttons unfastened. She shouldn't wonder what the hair poking out would feel like. The blush deepened, crept into her ears.

  "Are you almost done there?" she asked, pointing to the open cupboard.

  "Almost. I've shut the water off, now I just have to replace the inserts on the taps. I think I bought the right ones. I couldn't find the right ones here so I drove to the Canadian Tire in Hinton after work, and the guy in plumbing figured these would fit. If not, I can exchange them."

  "You didn't have to do this, but I appreciate it."

  "That dripping sound drove me nuts the other night. I don't know how you've stood it." He grabbed his toolbox and set it next to the sink.

  "Are you sure your wrench is big enough?" she teased, pointing to the handle which was too long to fit all the way in the toolbox.

  Matt's eyebrows wiggled, his smile lit his face. "Nobody's complained about my tool yet."

  Thinking of what she'd been looking at when he'd been unaware, Lauren hid her nervousness behind a laugh. "Do lines like that work for you?"

  "I'll let you know in about ten minutes, as soon as I'm finished here."

  "Don't press your luck, Skarpinsky, or your tool might never work again."

  "Well, there's the girl I remember. You always did enjoy crushing my ego."

  "Only 'cause there was a lot to crush."

  His smile faded, his eyes went serious. "God, I've missed this."

  ***

  Lauren's thoughts were jumbled, her heart was confused. She hadn't rushed Matt out of the house, but she hadn't encouraged him to stay either. As soon as the deadbolt had clicked behind him, she'd run to her office and logged on.

  To hell with a movie, she needed some insight. So she told Carm everything. To Carm this would all seem so high school, and damn it, she would be right. But Lauren wasn't as experienced and this twist in the road of her life couldn't have shocked her more than if Carm had phoned and told her she was entering the convent.

  Carm's words stepped across the screen. Two days ago he hated you and now you're noticing his assets?

  It wasn't nearly so crude, but Lauren figured it was the gist of the problem.

  Yeah.

  He was the one with dark hair, right? Tall?

  Carm had come up for their graduation and had met Matt and Gil. While she'd liked both, she hadn't made it a secret which she'd considered sexier. At the time Lauren had thought her sister nuts.

  Lauren laughed, the sound coming out slightly hysterical. Now who was nuts?

  Yeah, that's him.

  He was hot. I say go for it.

  We're supposed to be friends!

  So, be friends with benefits. This was followed by a winking yellow emoticon. Seriously, Lauren. He's hot, he's single and you're attracted to him. All you can do is let go, see where it takes you.

  Lauren sighed. Carm was right. Not helpful, but right.

  I guess I can try.

  But the thought left Lauren trembling.

  Sex is like riding a bike. Your knees may get all scraped up, but the fall is well worth the ride!

  Good grief. Carm would fit right in with the coffee gang.

  So, was the package worth checking out?

  Lauren sputtered.

  It's none of your business!

  Plus Lauren didn't think she could write down any words that would do Matt justice. Smiling, she watched her sister's words fly across the screen.

  You've practically been a nun for the last few years and now when things get interesting, I get nothing?

  That's right.

  You're evil. Do I at least get to know if his ass is nice as I remember?

  No.

  Why not?

  I haven't looked.

  No doubt Carm was wondering just how it was possible she and Lauren were related.

  Do me a favor, okay?

  I'm scared to ask.

  Just check out Matt's ass for me. I want a status report next time we talk.

  Before Lauren could digest this latest weird development in her life, the icon next to her sister's name changed to say she was offline. Figured.

  Shaking her head, Lauren powered off her laptop and shuffled back to her room. Staring out the window to the starry night and the three-quarter moon, Lauren's thoughts tumbled wildly. So much had happened in such a short time.

  Matt was in her life again but he wasn't the same, they weren't the same. While some things were familiar and comfortable, like their bantering, others had changed significantly. Like how her body responded to his nearness. How he wasn't only a guy friend anymore. He was a man. A man she found very attractive.

  Since the accident, Lauren hadn't been attracted to anyone. Hadn't even considered it after Gil. It was as though her body and her soul were sleeping. But now…

  Lauren pressed her forehead to the cool window, closed her eyes.

  She wasn't sure what to do next but she knew one thing, her soul, her body, were very much awake.

  ***

  The Friday morning before Thanksgiving was surprisingly quiet in the Mountainview. Coffee beans had been ground and the smell of dark roast followed Lauren as she slipped the second batch of cinnamon buns into the commercial oven. Betty was in the office, her radio tuned to her favorite country western station with the volume loud enough for the two-step beat to swing through the restaurant.

  "Don't tell me you still listen to that crap," Matt muttered from the door.

  She spun around, surprised she'd missed the bell chime. Her heart beat against her rib cage. He was in full uniform and, like every other red-blooded female, her pulse quickened. Crisp sage shirt and tie lay beneath his forest green Parks Canada jacket. Long legs clad in the same color ended in sturdy hiking boots. Add the thick belt with the tools of the trade and he was a sight, one which could only be described in one word: scrumptious.

  "Paul Brandt is not crap."

  Matt rolled his eyes and swept his hat into his hand. "Country music's all the same, Lauren. You can ride a horse to the beat."

  "Let me guess. You're still lost in the eighties?"

  "John Fogerty and Dire Straits are classics."

  "And the Go-Go's?" she teased, pouring him a cup of coffee.

  He pointed at her. "If you tell anyone, I'll deny it."

  "Yeah, yeah," she chuckled. He sat with a sigh and Lauren looked a little closer. There were shadows underneath his eyes, like he wasn't sleeping enough.

  "Are you all right? You look tired."

  It seemed to take a lot of energy for him to smile. "Yeah, just working long days."

  "Is there a problem?"

  He was quick to shake his head. "Nah, just trying to get my bearings, learn my territory."

  "Okay," she said, though his answer didn't ring a hundred percent true. But then, she hadn't heard any gossip about anything going on in the Park either, so maybe sh
e was just being paranoid.

  "Hey, Lauren!"

  "Yes, Elsie," she called back over the empty tables.

  "Bring that nice young man over here and introduce him."

  Matt looked from the coffee gang to her. "Please don't," he begged. "I know how little old ladies work. They'll be trying to marry me off to one of their granddaughters. Trust me, Baba does it all the time," he said, referring to his grandmother.

  She snatched his coffee cup before he could hold onto it. Laughing, she carried it over to the ladies. From the corner of her eyes she saw Matt hang his head a second before walking over.

  "Ladies, this is Matt Skarpinsky. He's transferred from Waterton. Matt, if you plan on coming in here regularly, you'll be seeing a lot of these women. That's Lois on the end, then Elsie, Alice, Mary and Donna."

  "Nice to meet you," Matt said.

  "Oh, pull up a seat. We don't bite," Alice said.

  "Well, not right away," Mary added with a soft chuckle.

  "Are you married, Matt?" Lois asked. She leaned forward, blue eyes like lasers across the table.

  Lauren bit her lip to keep from laughing when Matt squirmed under the five pairs of eyes staring at him like he was about to divulge the secrets of the universe.

  "No, ma'am."

  "Ever been married?"

  "No, ma'am."

  "Are you one of them men who prefer other men, 'cause if you are we're all right with that. My nephew is gay. It would just be nice if you told us outright, though, so we don't get our hopes up." Elsie winked at Matt, who promptly jerked so quick he spilled his coffee.

  "Well?"

  "No, ma'am. I, um, prefer women."

  "Can I get you anything else, Matt?"

  "Oh, yeah, a cinnamon bun. But I'll take it up at the counter." He grabbed his mug. "I have to talk to you about something anyhow. Nice meeting you, ladies."

  Lauren could feel Matt breathing down her neck the whole way back to the counter.

  "That was mean."

  "No," Lauren chuckled. "That was fun."

  Matt's mouth twisted in a grin. "I'll get even."

  She set his bun before him. "It's on the house. Now we're even."