Chasing Trouble (In Ashwood Book 3)

by Kinney Scott

  Chill evening air hit Linnea, and she ducked back in to find Rick’s worn coat on a peg near the door. The fabric smelled like nature and Rick. She lost herself in the size, weight, and refuge of the heavy coat.

  Hearing a loud crack, she found him easily. He was far from the house chopping wood. Wearing only a snug red t-shirt, sweat trailed at the neck, down the center of his back and under his arms. With each swing, the fabric pulled across his body in a dance of fluid masculine beauty. A haphazard pile of split wood lay a few yards away. He tossed each log to the pile planning to stack the wood neatly later.

  She wandered close spotting gloves on a large round of Douglas fir. Linnea slid her hands into the too big leather gloves, picked up a log, and followed his patterned layout stacking the wood. Rick paused to watch. Linnea had been raised on a farm, drove a tractor, and planted hops. This woman didn’t hesitate - she helped. Fear scored his heart. He couldn’t ask her to do this. Linnea deserved better than an instant family and never-ending work.

  FIFTEEN

  By mid-week, Rick felt he’d hit a near-normal stride. The milestone happened when Linnea helped him clear the second bedroom and assemble a hand-me-down crib. From the moment his little guy moved to his own room he slept peacefully until dawn. Rick had never been so thankful for a full night’s sleep.

  The day-care Bill suggested fit his schedule, and the staff there loved Ricky. Each day Ricky came home ready to play, and he learned that giving the baby a bath after dinner helped him fall asleep without the twenty-minute cry. Tonight, after work, he looked forward to relaxing with a book and going to bed early.

  Some personal routines shifted. He took a permanent break from volunteering at the fire department and that change took a chunk of his soul. He also missed spending time with Kent and shooting pool at The Northside Grill. Maybe after Christmas, he’d look over the list of babysitters, give one a call, and take a night off.

  Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before he needed to talk with Linnea. While he loved having her in his home and in his bed, he couldn’t take advantage of her giving nature. Before Ricky, he’d thought about asking her to move in. That request would be selfish now. He knew she would say yes, but for the wrong reasons.

  ***

  Linnea poured and asked the next guy in line for his selection. Happy hour at the taproom kept her busy. She’d switched shifts with Annie but couldn’t leave until the rush died down.

  Looking up she found Rick standing at the bar, “Hi Rick, do you have time to sit for a while before picking up Ricky?”

  “No, not tonight,” he answered. “Just wanted to let you know I’m stopping by the store for diapers and I’ll grab something from the deli. So there’s no need for you to rush home for dinner.”

  “Okay,” she hesitated. “Annie’s closing. I can be home by seven.”

  “Take all the time you need, Ricky and I will be fine tonight without you.” The silent nod he gave felt cold as she watched him rush away.

  ***

  “You’re still here?” Wade asked peeking into the office wondering why the light was still on at nine.

  Linnea’s head tipped up from the screen, “Yeah, I had some payroll to finish up and wanted to get ahead of the event for the canned food drive.”

  This hid the real reason she’d secluded herself in her office. Working late gave Rick the space he seemed to need. But, she’d be back home before bed, hoping he would have enough energy for make-up sex. Not that they’d fought, but still…it had been a while.

  “How are you adjusting to all the changes?” her brother asked as he closed the door to the office behind him and sat down.

  Her shrug communicated more than she intended, “I love Ricky, but don’t know quite where I fit in.” Tears burned hot behind her eyes, as the truth laced in her words hit hard.

  Wade leaned in, “Hey it will be okay. Rick needs time to adjust. You two have been together for a while now, you’ll figure this out.”

  She nodded, “I know. Part of the reason I moved to the tiny house was to give our relationship more space. Everything was progressing perfectly. Rick and I are both careful people, we just need extra time.”

  “Do you feel differently about Rick now that you know he comes with a baby?” Wade asked.

  “No! Not at all. Watching him with Ricky, if anything, makes me love him more.” She wanted to reel back the words that hung between them.

  “You love Rick. Have you told him?” her brother asked.

  She bent and shook her head, “No. I planned to. The baby’s more important now. I don’t want Rick to feel like I’m using these circumstances to rope him into needing me.”

  “Linnea, you’ve got to be kidding me! Rick doesn’t need you because of the baby. He needs you because he loves you. Everyone can see that.” Tears topped the rim of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She swiped them away quickly with the back of her hand.

  “I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Give him time to adjust. Have you thought about moving back into the tiny house?”

  “No, I could never leave Rick on his own. It wouldn’t be right. What should I do, Wade?”

  “I don’t know. Do you want me to talk to Rick?”

  She shook her head, “No, not yet. Let me see how this weekend goes. I’ve got a long shift on Saturday at the taproom. Maybe Rick needs time alone with the baby to adjust.”

  Her brother nodded, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” They stood together after Linnea shut down her payroll program. She locked the office behind her and walked slowly to her car.

  The front porch light was on when she got home. Walking in, Linnea met Rick’s eyes. He looked up from his book where he sat reading under a single lamp illuminating the living room.

  “How was Ricky tonight?” she asked quickly.

  “Good. He went right down after his bath.” His mouth began to open as if he intended to speak, but he stopped and turned his head back to the words on the page.

  Linnea moved to the kitchen and pulled a bagged salad off the bottom shelf. The partially eaten casserole covered with plastic wrap would have been more filling, but she’d had enough of the noodle-fare to last a lifetime.

  The supply of those meals seemed endless. She’d taken the time to freeze a few into meal size portions. Each day Linnea returned bowls, platters, and casserole dishes with a thoughtful handwritten thank you note to Rick’s helpful neighbors and friends, many she’d never met.

  Sitting alone at the table, Linnea took out her e-reader. She couldn’t recall the plot of the book she began over a week ago and chose to start another. In the dead silence of the room, the salad seemed to create a deafening crunch in her own ears.

  “Do you mind if I turn on some music?” Linnea asked Rick, hoping he’d decide to talk.

  “Go ahead. I’m about to the end of the chapter and I’m beat.” She knew he planned to sleep immediately and leave the growing tension between them in place for another night.

  “Rick, can we talk?” she asked.

  He sighed, not wanting to begin this conversation tonight, and knowing if he did neither of them would sleep.

  “Linnea, can we wait until morning. Please,” he insisted. His eyes stared at her with a mixture of apathy and pain. She tipped her head, deciding not to push him for now. He deserved the space he was staking as his own.

  “That’s fine,” Linnea whispered past a weak smile. He walked by her, touched her shoulder briefly and moved on, leaving no trace of warmth.

  Peeking into Ricky’s room, she took a moment to stroke the baby’s head. Her heart tightened knowing she may lose this little bundle as part of her daily life. Feeling a sense of loss so acute she could scarcely breathe, Linnea moved back to the living room to try to relax.

  Each decision Rick made, for his boy and for his life, he made with careful consideration. If he chose to push Linnea to the fringes, she knew she would be powerless to fight him.

  ***

&nb
sp; Rolling over in bed Rick expected to find Linnea beside him, but her side of the bed was cold, and her pillow was gone. Planting his feet on the floor, he recalled the hurtful things he’d said. As awful as those words were, they didn’t compare to the broken expression he saw on her face or the fact that she didn’t put up an argument.

  Yesterday morning when he asked her to go back to her own place, Linnea nodded, silently gathered her things, and drove away. She left so quickly he wondered if she had packed her belongings anticipating what he planned to say. He buried himself in the blankets on her side of the bed attempting to inhale the traces of her lingering perfume.

  Each day began the same as the last as he moved mechanically through his morning duties. Ricky fussed while he fed him, squirmed when he put him in the car and screamed when Rick left daycare. He didn’t know who missed Linnea more, Ricky or the foolish man who sent her away. Rick pushed unfeeling through eight hours on the job, thankful when the weekend finally approached. His mother planned to visit and give him a break from the grinding routine.

  Linnea’s car wasn’t parked in front of the taproom when he pulled in first thing. And now, she hadn’t shown up by noon. Guilt seared the edges of his mind each time he glanced toward the lot to find her spot vacant.

  Maybe she was avoiding him. Maybe she couldn’t sleep. A day would come when Linnea would move on, and resume her schedule. He feared that day. Rick knew he would never recover from these self-inflicted wounds.

  “What are your plans this weekend?” Kent asked as he and Rick left Whitewater Homes to grab a sandwich from the deli counter at the Stop and Shop.

  “My Mom plans on visiting,” Rick answered.

  “Great, you and Linnea should meet up with me at The Northside. You both need to get out. And she needs to escape the taproom.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Rick said, ignoring the questions racing through his mind. He couldn’t figure out if he and Linnea were still in limbo as some sort of separated couple. He’d told her to move back to her tiny home. But, did everything need to be over? Was there a middle-ground left to salvage? To figure that out, Rick would need to communicate.

  After lunch, he hid inside a partially constructed tiny home. He typed and deleted the same awkward phrases: How are you? Can we get together to talk? Linnea, I’m sorry, I made a horrible mistake. Rick stared at the words, wanting to hit send, but tapped the delete button unwilling to tether Linnea to his broken life.

  ***

  Linnea arrived late, parked on the far side of the complex and slipped in through the rear brewery entrance. She carried in stacks of Christmas decorations, piling the red, green and silver boxes in the storage room. The festive colors mocked her dark mood. Come Saturday morning, she’d need to be ready to decorate the taproom.

  Clanging symbols let her know when Foundry arrived to set up Friday afternoon.

  “Hey, Linnea! Gonna be a great crowd tonight!” the drummer yelled as he brought in his kit.

  “Always is when you guys play. Let me know if you need anything. Come grab a beer if you get thirsty,” Linnea added with a forced smile.

  The band’s joking and laughter lifted the emptiness, easing that painful ache centered below her rib cage. By nine the taproom was packed, as it was each Friday night when Foundry played live.

  Ravenna slid in next to her behind the bar. “Love the energy tonight. All the winter beers are moving well. Erik, Wade and I tried to put a unique spin on each recipe.”

  While she filled another pint, Linnea shared, “I’ve noticed the Pomander IPA sells better in the taproom, but your Apple Crumble Doppelbock is the growler everyone takes home.”

  “I’m glad all three are moving well. I’ll be honest, my favorite this time of year is still the chocolate porter, but it’s chocolate, so that’s a given.” Ravenna laughed happily enjoying the energy of the evening.

  Wade handled the floor clearing empties while keeping an eye on the door and the growing throngs near the stage.

  Kent appeared in front of Linnea at the bar, “hey awesome music tonight!”

  “It is. Foundry pulls in a terrific crowd. What can I get you, Kent?” she asked quickly.

  “Pint of Double Deet. Hey, seeing how Laura’s coming up this weekend - do you and Rick want to meet up tomorrow night? I talked to him earlier but couldn’t get an answer.”

  Linnea’s face paled, “Uh…I don’t know? Have Rick text me, if he wants me to come along.”

  Kent’s confusion told her all she needed to know, Rick was keeping his personal issues buried deep, even from his best friend. “What are you talking about, Linn? Aren’t you going home to him after your shift ends?”

  She handed off his pint, and tipped her head, “Meet me at the end of the bar - will you Kent?”

  She found Ravenna and told her she was taking a short break. Kent waited for her in a relatively quiet spot just inside the brewery. The bright tanks shielded the pair from the intense thump of Foundry’s bass.

  “What’s going on, Linnea? Rick seemed off today, but he’s still adjusting. By now I thought he’d be ready for a night out.”

  The words in her mind wouldn’t leave her lips. Perhaps if she never spoke her pain into existence, her circumstances would rewind and she’d wake up next to Rick. Her mouth opened and her voice sounded distant in her own ears.

  “He asked me to move out - back to my tiny house,” she blurted.

  Kent rocked back on his heels. “You’re fucking kidding me? Sorry Linnea,” he apologized as she winced at the harsh words. “I just didn’t think he’d do anything that stupid. Now, I’m capable of that level of stupid, but we’re talking about Rick,” he laughed in a desperate attempt to break the tension. Linnea looked so close to tears it scared him.

  She tried to laugh with him but gave up, “I packed up my stuff and left. He hasn’t called or texted, so I’m guessing it’s his way of breaking up.”

  “Did he say that?” Kent needed to be sure.

  “No, not in so many words, but God it felt final. I miss him. I miss Ricky.” Tears slipped free, topping the rims of her eyes and winding a path down her face. Her mascara smudged as she used the back of her thumb to wipe away the evidence. She moved deeper into the brewery, attempting to hide from the masses. Kent followed, unable to think of anything useful to say.

  Out of sight, he put an arm around her, unable to process how Rick could give her up. “Let me talk to him. Damn, this is bullshit,” he muttered.

  “No, Kent. Please don’t talk to him. He’ll just think I was gossiping about our break-up. I don’t want anyone in Ashwood to think less of Rick. He’s just doing what he thinks is best for Ricky,” Linnea said calming herself and digging a tissue from her pocket. She’d come prepared to handle the tears that kept arriving in waves when she least expected it.

  He pulled her to him, and Linnea tried to pretend this lean firm chest was Rick’s, but Kent's arms didn’t comfort, and his presence didn’t ease her grief.

  “Does anyone know?” Kent asked, angry that Rick hurt this giving beautiful woman so badly.

  “You, me, and Rick - I guess,” she said past a staggered breath. “Promise you won’t say anything to Rick?” she begged.

  “Yes, fine. I won’t say anything to Rick.” However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t leak the information to someone else.

  SIXTEEN

  Saturday morning Rick opened the door, let his mother in, and asked if he could grab a quick shower while she fed Ricky his lunch.

  “Is Linnea working today?” his mother questioned, wondering why her son hadn’t had a chance to finish his morning routine.

  “I don’t know, Mom. She moved out,” Rick said, quickly.

  “What? She left you here! Alone with the baby? Honestly, I’m surprised. She didn’t seem that selfish,” her instant judgment flashed hot anger through Rick.

  “Mom, don’t say that about Linnea. If it was up to her, she’d still be here. That’s exactly why I asked her to l
eave.”

  Her mouth fell open, “You…Asked her…To leave? Son, why on earth did you do that?”

  His voice lifted in frustration, “She didn’t sign up for this! Linnea shouldn’t feel obligated to raise Grace’s baby. That’s on me. Not her.” The sharp toned anger scared Ricky. At first, his little face scrunched into a frown, followed by the crescendo of a wail echoing Rick’s loss.

  His mother nodded, dismayed by her son’s choices, “I’ve got him,” she said scooping the baby from the floor. “Take your shower.” She shook her head, wondering how her son could be such a fool.

  As she heard the bathroom door close she voiced her concern, “Ricky, your uncle’s the best man I know, but that doesn’t mean he understands women,” the baby’s face calmed and his chubby hand stretched to grab her nose.

  “Oh, no I got your nose!” she laughed, tweaking his button nose with her thumb and finger, thankful for her grandson’s bright chiming laughter.

  ***

  Ravenna stepped on the porch when she heard the crunch of gravel on the front drive. Linnea’s taillights disappeared heading towards town. She stepped back inside, refilled her coffee mug and wandered into the bathroom where she heard the shower running.

  “Are you coming back for more?” Wade asked laughing when he felt cold air enter the steamy space.

  “Not after this morning,” her arm snaked under the spray of his shower and she slid her hand across his ass.

  “You sure? Keep that up and I’m pulling you in with your clothes on.”

  “Tempting, but I wanted to ask you why Linnea was at her tiny house next door. Isn’t she helping with Rick’s baby?”

  “She came back a few days ago. At first, I thought Rick and the baby came with, but I’m worried they broke up. Linnea’s been miserable.”