by Gerri Hill
Lexie nodded. “Yes, you’ve mentioned him before. Mark’s drinking buddy or something or other.”
Her mother frowned. “Him? No, no. Kyler’s a woman. She’s a park ranger here. Just the sweetest thing. We love her to death.”
“Her?” She shrugged. “Okay. The way Mark talked—oh, or are they dating then? That would be wonderful. Mark—”
“Mark still doesn’t date, no.” Then her mother gave a short laugh. “But Kyler? No, honey. If she were going to date someone in the family, it would be you, not Mark.”
Lexie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Oh, no. Absolutely not.”
“No, what?”
She shook her head firmly and held a hand up. “No, Mom. Don’t even think about it.”
“If you’re implying that I’m trying to set you up or something, you’re way off base. Kyler thought the same thing. And as I told her, you two are the complete opposite of each other. There is no way you could date,” she said with a laugh. “But as you said, she and Mark are good friends. She’s around a lot so I’m sure you’ll see her. She’s close to your age, I think. Younger than Mark.” She linked arms with her. “So no, not trying to set you up at all, but she would make a good friend. I know that was one of your hesitations about coming up here.”
“One of about fifty,” she reminded her.
“Well, now you’re down to forty-nine,” she teased. “So? What will it be? Want to see your room first or go see Mark?”
“I think I’ll take a few bags in and freshen up a bit. Thirty minutes?”
“That’s fine. I’ll ride with you and show you around to the back. You’ve got a little patio and a wonderful view of the bird garden. You can walk to the restaurant from there.”
Lexie went outside with her mother, wondering what a bird garden was. They drove around the side of the office, past the “private drive” sign. The road narrowed to one lane and meandered around to the back of the office building. Her father’s truck was parked there, and she pulled up beside it. There were two doors on the back of the building. From what she remembered from her mother’s explanation, one was for the office—and the backstairs that went up to their suite— and the other was for Mark’s old apartment, the place she would call home for the next two months. At least.
“There’s the patio. Mark built it the first year we were here.” Her mother paused as they got out. “And there’s the bird garden,” she pointed. “Lots of our guests come for birdwatching. They love the garden. The Montezuma quail is our big draw up here.”
The patio was a square shape at the edge of the building. A small round table and two chairs made it look inviting. Across from where they were parked was the bird garden. Several feeders were hanging among the trees—six or eight, at least. She heard the sound of running water but saw none.
“What is a bird garden?”
“Oh, that’s what Kyler calls it. She cleared the underbrush around the trees and set up all these different feeders.”
“Is there a stream nearby?”
“Oh, no. Cottonwood Creek is dry this time of year. And Limpia Creek is on the other side of the lodge, at the state park boundary. That’s the waterfall you hear. I’ll show you later. Mark and Kyler built it for me there in the bird garden. They hauled rocks and stone in and even poured concrete pillars. It’s so dry and arid up here, the birds love it. So do the deer.”
Lexie opened the trunk and took out one of her bags, handing it to her mother, and she took another one. “I can get the rest later.”
“Doesn’t look like you brought much.”
“Jeans and sweaters and such. Enough, I think.”
Her mother opened the door to the apartment, then stood back, letting her enter first.
“I’ve had the windows open on and off as the weather allows. Mark hasn’t lived in here in three years, so it’s been closed up.”
The living room was small, but she’d been expecting that. Mark had given her a layout of the apartment already. The kitchen area was little more than what you’d find in a motel kitchenette—small fridge, microwave, and a two-burner stove. What looked like a brand-new Keurig was on the counter, however. Her mother must have seen where her glance landed.
“Your dad’s idea, since you don’t drink coffee by the pot like we do.”
“That was nice of him. I almost brought my own from home.”
“There’s not much to the kitchen, I know.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“You can share meals with us anytime and of course use the restaurant at will. I know you’re used to going out for lunch and dinner. I’m sorry. That’s going to be a huge change for you.”
“Yes, it will. I’m sure I’ll adjust.”
She went past the sofa and into the bedroom. A queen bed, at least, she noted as she put her bag on it. No windows.
“You hate it, don’t you?”
She turned around. “It’s fine, Mom. Quit worrying. I don’t hate it.”
Her mother sighed. “I just want you to be comfortable and feel at home. And I can see by the look on your face that you’re disappointed. Honey, we can—”
She held her hand up. “Mom, really, it’s fine.”
Her mother blew out a frustrated breath. “I should have listened to Mark. He said you would hate it up here.”
“I don’t hate it,” she said again. “It’s different than what I’m used to, that’s all. Let me unpack and relax for a bit. I’ll meet you back at the office.”
Her mother came closer and hugged her. “You make me feel like we forced you into this.”
“You did not force me, Mom. I weighed all my options. And being up here—trial run, remember?—has both pros and cons. But you did not force me.” She smiled at her mother. “I needed a change, and this is certainly it. And yes, Mark gave me fair warning. It’s remote. There aren’t a lot of activities like I’m used to. It’s quiet. It’s slow. So let’s take it a day at a time and we’ll see where it ends up.”
“I want you to be happy, honey. I don’t want you to stay up here because you think it’ll disappoint us if you don’t.”
“I know. And like I told you on the phone the other day, I needed a break from my life—from everything. I think this might be good for me.”
“I hope so. It’ll be so nice for us all to be together again. Especially for Christmas. It’s still so hard for Mark.” Her mother pulled at the neck of her sweater. “Is it hot in here to you? Your father must have left the heater on,” her mother fussed as she went to inspect the thermostat. “It’s stifling all of a sudden.”
Lexie smiled. “Hot flash?”
Her mother went to the door and opened it, fanning herself. “God, menopause is going to be the death of me. It’s been four years and I’m still having hot flashes!”
Lexie laughed. “Then take your sweater off.”
“Oh, it’ll pass.” She smiled at her. “I’ll let you get unpacked. Come find me when you’re done, and we’ll go see Mark at the restaurant.”
“Okay. Fifteen minutes, half hour tops.”
She glanced around the living room quickly, then went into the bedroom. Instead of unpacking, though, she lay down and stared at the ceiling. Was this a mistake? Nothing felt right about it. Of course, this was what she was expecting, wasn’t it? She’d all but convinced herself that she would hate it, that she should hate it.
She sighed and sat up. No. She’d told herself she’d keep an open mind and that’s what she would do. This trial run was two months. She could do anything for two months. She’d have a chance to be around her family again, for one thing. She would look at it as an extended vacation. Yes, that’s what she would do. A Christmas vacation.
And, as an added bonus, it was a vacation that didn’t have to end if she didn’t want it to. There was no job to get back to. Surprisingly, that thought didn’t bring its usual sense of dread along with it. She had a job if she wanted it.
Running a lodge.
Outsi
de of Ft. Davis, Texas.
A million miles from anywhere.
Chapter Eight
Lexie followed her mother’s directions, walking around the lodge then taking a stone pathway through the trees. It was short—thirty or forty feet—and it ended at the edge of a parking lot. She paused, admiring the log cabin-style building, complete with a large covered front porch. A sign below the eave proclaimed the Cottonwood Creek Bar and Grill and a neon Open sign hung in one window. Before heading up the steps, she looked around, noting only three cars in the parking lot. Beyond the lot was a paved road, heading away from the lodge. A brown sign—Davis Mountains State Park—was partially obscured by the trees.
A bell jingled when she opened the door. She looked around, finding her brother behind the bar, wiping the top methodically, his head bobbing quietly to the country song that played in the background. He glanced up, a smile lighting his handsome face when he saw her.
“There’s my favorite sister!”
He hurried around the bar and she went to him, accepting his tight hug with one of her own.
“Damn good to see you, sis.”
“You too.” She touched his face affectionately. “I’ve missed you.”
He nodded and kissed her cheek. “Me too.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the bar. “You want a beer?”
“Show me around first.”
He motioned around them. “This is it. Eight tables. Six booths. The bar.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “Kitchen back there.”
She sat down at a barstool and took one of the menus that were tucked between a napkin dispenser and salt and pepper shakers.
“Don’t judge.” He opened a cooler and took out a frozen mug. “You won’t find anything healthy on there.”
“My god…everything is fried! Who eats this crap?”
“Not everything is fried,” he countered. “Grilled cheese sandwich.”
“Dripping in butter, no doubt. Might as well be fried.” She closed the menu. “You seriously need an upgrade.”
“You think so? This is pretty much the same menu they had when Mom and Dad bought the place.” He motioned to the kitchen. “Same cooks too. The locals that come here, this is what they’re used to.”
She took a sip of the cold beer. It tasted refreshing. “And those staying at the lodge?”
“Well, we do get some requests for grilled chicken sometimes.” He shrugged. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can overhaul the menu.”
She smiled at him. “I know nothing about running a lodge and only slightly more about restaurants. And that’s only because I eat out at nearly every meal.”
“I warned you about that. There’s a barbeque place in town and a Mexican café that’s only open for lunch. That’s it. There’s a little country tavern down in Marfa that does decent steaks and fried chicken. And a Mexican restaurant that’s pretty good. Or so I’ve been told.”
“And Marfa is where?”
“About Twenty-five miles southwest of here.”
She frowned. “I didn’t think there were any towns nearby.”
“Marfa is only a little bigger than Ft. Davis. Fifteen or sixteen hundred people, maybe. Now Alpine is decent size. College town. Probably six thousand people there. It’s about thirty miles southeast of here.”
“So six thousand people. There’s shopping. Restaurants. That’s a relief. You and Mom made it sound like you were totally isolated up here.”
“Well, yeah. Kinda is. Ft. Davis, Marfa, and Alpine make a little triangle. You’ll find burger chains and stuff in Alpine. McDonalds. Burger King and the like. Not much else. If we need real shopping, we have to go to Ft. Stockton. That’s more than an hour and a half drive from here.”
“That’s where I stopped to get gas.”
“It’s different than what you’re used to, that’s for sure. If it’s something I need that I can’t find at Potters or at the hardware store, I just order it online.” He shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“So you say.”
“Having second thoughts?”
She shook her head. “I’m going to give it a try. I think two months ought to be enough to know if I can make this work.”
“But you’ve got to go back anyway, right? Your apartment?”
“Yes. I’ll need to be moved out by the end of January, one way or another.”
“I can help, you know. After the holidays, things slow down a lot. Irene can handle it here for a few days and I can go with you. I can probably talk Kyler into going too. She never takes her vacation days. She’s got weeks piled up.”
She nodded. “For some reason, I thought Kyler was a guy. Mom said you two are good friends.”
“The best. We hang out on weekends. Watch football. Grill out a lot. I credit her for keeping me sane.” He smiled. “And vice versa. You’re going to love her. She’s really nice.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And cute too.”
She shook her head. “I’ll tell you like I told Mom. No. Don’t even think about it.”
“Just sayin’.”
“Nope. I am so not interested.”
“You’re both so stubborn, I swear.”
“No, Mark. It’s not happening. Ever.”
“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up. “She wasn’t interested either.”
“Why? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing’s wrong with her. I told you, she’s cute.” He grinned. “Well, she’s got bad taste, that’s for sure. Had an affair with her boss’s wife. Got caught. That’s why she came out here to begin with. Then there was the woman with the pigs.”
“Pigs?”
“She had pet pigs. Two of them. In the house.”
She wrinkled up her nose.
“Ah. But then the twins. They were cute.”
“She dated twins?”
He laughed. “No, not really dated. They wanted to have sex.” He grinned. “She brought me along. Kinda a group thing.”
“Oh my god! You did not!”
“No. We both thought it was creepy.”
“Where did you find twins?”
“Kyler met them in Marfa. Well, she met one of them. Jessa and Tessa. We went out to dinner and we never could tell them apart. One was an artist.”
“Well, at least you date. You rarely talk about going out.”
“No, sis. I don’t date. Kyler made me go with her, that’s all.”
She reached across the bar and squeezed his hand. “I miss her too.”
“Yeah. She was the best.” He returned her squeeze, then pulled his hand away. “I feel like I’m cheating on her if I go out.”
“Oh, Mark, no. Mia would never want you to be alone.”
He shrugged. “I’m happy, sis. Really. I’ve grown to love it up here. Kyler—she keeps me grounded. We’re buddies. That’s all I need.”
“Does she know about Mia?”
“I told her, but we don’t talk about it. I…I never want to bring it up. Mom and Dad—we don’t talk about her, so…”
No. They wouldn’t. Her mother loved Mia like a daughter and her death had hit them all hard. Their plans for buying the lodge had already been put in motion when she’d been killed. Mark never came out and said it, but she assumed—when he’d jumped at the chance to join them up here—that it was his way of running from Mia’s memory. Mia and his unborn son.
“Maybe you should. It might do you good to talk about it with someone other than me. I mean, it’s been—”
“Seven years. But what is there to say? I don’t want to relive it all again. Especially this time of year.” He tapped his chest. “She’s still in here. I haven’t forgotten about her, Lexie. So I don’t need to date. I’m not ready for that. I may not ever be.”
She smiled at him. “I miss her white chocolate chip cookies.” He met her gaze and she saw tears welling there.
“I gave you her recipe.”
“There was obviously a secret ingredient. They’re not the same.”
He leaned on
the counter. “I miss her Sunday brunches.”
“Yes. Blueberry pancakes.”
He stared at her. “I haven’t been on a bike since that day. She so loved to ride.”
“You both did.”
“Kyler rides. Mountain bike. She’s been bugging me to get one and ride with her.”
She tilted her head. “Maybe you should.”
He smiled. “I told her I didn’t know how.”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “Who doesn’t know how to ride a bike?”
He laughed. “Yeah. She said the same thing.”
She leaned closer. “Are you sure y’all aren’t dating?”
He laughed again. “If she was straight, I would be tempted.” His face turned serious. “I think you’re gonna love her. She’s hard not to like.”
“No, thanks. I’m not interested in dating. At all.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “She loves Christmas time as much as you do.”
“So did Crazy Cathy. You see where that got me.” She slid her empty beer mug over to him. “Why are you pushing her so much?”
“Because you two are my most favorite people in the world.”
She smiled at that. “Well, thanks for the sentiment. But really, it’s culture shock enough being up here. I’ll say emphatically that I’m not dating. But I wouldn’t mind making a friend.”
He nodded. “You’re going to love her.”
Chapter Nine
“Is she here yet?”
Mark grinned at her. “See! You are anxious to meet her.”
Kyler flicked her eyes at him and shook her head. “You all but threatened me if I didn’t show up.”
He filled a frosty mug from the tap. “You missed her, though. She just left. But you’re going over to the folks’ place for dinner, right?”
“We’re trimming the tree. Yeah,” she said as if it was obvious.
“Lexie loves decorating the tree. Always has.”
“And your mom is making one of her casseroles. I hope it’s that Mexican taco one.”
“Mom loves making that. Lexie will pretend to like it but push it around on her plate. Watch her.”
She gave an audible “ah” as she took a swallow of the cold beer. “Why doesn’t she like it?”