Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  As she ascended the steps onto the wide, wraparound veranda, she noted that a pair of muddy galoshes sat near the welcome mat. Judging by their small size, she guessed them to be Vickie’s. The woman was diminutive in stature, but what she lacked in bulk, she made up for with boundless energy. It was good to know she was sparing time to work outdoors with her husband. If any man deserved to have a loving woman at his side, it was Slade Wilder.

  Her boots thumping against the wood planks, Erin crossed to the door and knocked. An instant later she heard footsteps approaching from inside and the faint hum of voices. When the portal swung open, Erin was treated to a waft of wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen.

  “Erin!” As trim as a woman half her age, Vickie looked adorable in faded jeans, an emerald-green knit top that matched her eyes, and an overlong, checkered bib apron that she’d folded and tied at her waist to accommodate her small frame. Her red hair lay over her narrow shoulders in a riot of burnished curls. “Slade, you’ll never guess who’s here!” She threw her arms wide and stepped forward to dole out a hug, which Erin returned with genuine affection. “We were just wishing for company, and who should appear but one of our favorite people!”

  Erin laughed and stepped into what had once been an entryway without adornment. Now professional photographs of Slade’s horses were displayed on one wall, a rustic console table sported an antique gold pan that served as a catchall bowl, wildflowers spilled in haphazard profusion from the mouth of a copper vase, and a log bench held court over doffed footwear lined up beneath it like soldiers at muster. There was even an umbrella stand by the door.

  Erin’s uncle came around the corner just then. He wore wash-worn Wrangler jeans, a blue chambray shirt, and riding boots. His hair, originally a dark sable like her own, was now silvered at the temples. His eyes, a compelling gray, twinkled with pleasure as his sun-burnished countenance creased into a broad smile. With one long stride, he stepped forward to encircle her in his arms. “Our first official visitor since we tied the knot!” he said, his deep voice laced with welcome. “Come in, Erin, come in.”

  Erin wiped her boots clean on the entry rug. “Do I get a special door prize for being your first guest?”

  “You do!” Vickie confirmed. “I just finished pulling cookies from the oven and I made lemon meringue pies as well. I’ve been beating Kennedy away with a bat. Lemon meringue is his favorite, and he kept trying to sneak pieces before the filling cooled.” Vickie’s green eyes sparkled with laughter. “Messing with my pies before they set is a shooting offense.”

  Erin couldn’t help but grin. The couple’s love for each other and their excitement about finally being together was wonderful to behold. “I think I’m gaining weight just by sniffing the air.”

  Vickie led the way to the kitchen, which, in a house designed for simple living, was in a direct line from the front door. A rancher came and went dozens of times each day, and all manner of dirt accompanied him. The kitchen was the heart of any home, but that was particularly true on a farmstead. Thirsty and hungry from hard work, people gravitated indoors for tall glasses of water and frequent snacks. The utilitarian floorplan diminished repetitive foot traffic in the more formal rooms of the house.

  Erin locked arms with Uncle Slade before following her new aunt. “Are you two regretting that you didn’t go on a honeymoon yet?”

  Vickie swung around to walk backward. “No. Never. Now that I’m finally back in Mystic Creek, I don’t want to leave!” She dimpled her cheek in a grin. “Well, I’ll return to Coos Bay to see my parents and kids, of course, but otherwise Slade will have to drag me out of here.”

  Slade laughed. “I’m not dragging you anywhere. Other guys can look stupid in shorts and get sunburned legs on exotic beaches while they sip umbrella drinks. I’m happy with a Jimmy Buffett island song and a snort from my whiskey flask. If I can take my bride for walks in the moonlight and kiss her under a pine tree, I’m a happy man.”

  Cheeks turning a pretty pink, Vickie pushed at her hair. “And I’m so glad he feels that way. We talked about escaping to Fiji for a couple of weeks, but we couldn’t take Pistol. And I’d have missed Four Toes and the horses, too.”

  Pistol was technically Uncle Slade’s dog, but he had fallen in love with Vickie at first meet and now had two adoring humans to spoil him. Vickie had even crocheted a throw for the foot of their bed that had Pistol’s name on it. Four Toes was a blond black bear that Uncle Slade had rescued as a tiny cub and that now, by benefit of special permit, was able to call the ranch his forever home. Erin hadn’t spent time with any of the horses, but she knew how her uncle loved them. It was good that Vickie felt the same way.

  Erin took a seat at the round oak table while Vickie filled a floral-pattern serving platter with cookies and Slade poured coffee. When they sat down, Erin felt nervous. She didn’t know how to start this conversation.

  Cupping her warm mug in her hands, she said, “I’ll get right to the point and not take too much of your time. Whether you escaped to a tropical island or not, it’s still officially your honeymoon.”

  Vickie flapped her hand. “Don’t be silly. You’re welcome here anytime. And this house is like Grand Central now that I’m here. The men love baked goods still warm from the oven, so we don’t get a lot of alone time. That doesn’t bother us. We go for long horseback rides. We’re alone in the evening. For people our age, that works.”

  Slade winked at Erin. “What she’s trying to say is that I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m still as good once as I ever was. The keyword in that assessment is once. We have plenty of spare time for socializing.”

  Erin nearly choked on her coffee. “You stole those words straight from a song.”

  Slade laughed. “At my age, I’m not very original, either.”

  Erin turned her cup in her hands. “I dropped by to tell you that I’m thinking about returning to college.” She launched into a long and probably unnecessary explanation for that decision. “I’m just not happy in law enforcement. Some people love it, but I feel frustrated and disappointed.” She shrugged. “I thought I could make a difference in the world as a cop, and I suppose in some ways, I have. But when I finish a shift, I can’t see that I’ve made a measurable difference. Does that make any sense?”

  Vickie nodded. “You talked with me about this last fall. Remember?”

  Erin recalled how upset she’d been that night. “I do.”

  “I advised you then to consider a career change. You’re young. If law enforcement doesn’t fulfill you, you should change course and find something that does.”

  Slade nodded. “I completely agree, Erin. Maybe I’m wrong, but I got the feeling as you were growing up that your father pushed you to be a cop. I know he loves his job, but I don’t think it was ever your dream.”

  “I tried to make it my dream,” Erin confessed. “I worked as an aide in speech therapy for a couple of years, and that became my real passion. After working with deaf children, I walked away from every session with a feeling of accomplishment. I don’t get that from police work.”

  Vickie took a cookie from the platter. “It takes all different kinds of people to make the world go round,” she observed. “Some are born to be cops, and thank God they are, but not everyone is. I’m just glad you’ve realized that you made a mistake and that your life will be better spent doing something you really love.”

  Slade stirred his coffee and then tapped the spoon on the mug’s edge. The sound of metal striking porcelain created a musical ping. “Have you considered a different aspect of law enforcement? Investigative, possibly? Or forensics? Maybe some other focus would suit you better.”

  Erin heard someone come in the front door, and a moment later, Kennedy, Wyatt’s younger brother, entered the kitchen. “Hi, Erin!” To Vickie, he said, “Are the pies cool yet?”

  Vickie hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Under the tea
towels on the counter. You’ll have to cut one. Eight evenly proportioned slices per pie, no hogging.”

  “Eight?” Kennedy sounded appalled. “Can I have two pieces, then?”

  Vickie rolled her eyes. “Of course, but only one serving at a time, use a plate, and no shoveling allowed. If you drop filling on my clean floor, I’ll skin you alive.”

  While Kennedy rummaged in a cupboard for a dessert plate, Erin responded to her uncle’s question. “I’ve considered other forms of police work. But in the end, it’s all linked together, and I’m afraid I’d end up just as unhappy and dissatisfied as I am now.” She plucked a pine needle off the front of her white blouse and smiled. “I’m also ready to start dating, and that isn’t happening for me in law enforcement. My friend Julie thinks the uniform is part of the problem. I’m more inclined to believe it’s the circumstances under which I meet most single guys in town. For some reason, none of them are inclined to ask me out when I’m issuing them traffic citations.”

  Vickie laughed. “I can see how that might dampen the ardor of most men.”

  Kennedy turned to rest his hips against the counter’s edge. Erin met his gaze and felt a moment of embarrassment. Then she shrugged it off. Right now her career change was only in the discussion stage, but eventually everyone would hear some version of her reasons for no longer wanting to be a cop. At least this way, Kennedy was getting the real story.

  As the conversation continued, Kennedy devoured two pieces of pie, then rinsed his eating implements and put them in the dishwasher before thanking Vickie and leaving the house to resume work. Slade watched him leave and then leveled his gaze on Erin. “I think you know you don’t need our approval if you want to change careers, so as glad as I am of the visit, I wonder why you’re actually here.”

  Erin sighed. Her uncle could always be trusted to cut right to the chase. “In order to return to school, I’ll need a little help. I feel really icky about asking. I’m a grown woman, after all. But I’ll be tight on money if I work only part-time while I’m going to college, and I don’t think I’ll be able to make my income stretch to cover the rent on my cottage.” She held up a hand. “I’ll be able to pay some rent. Don’t get me wrong. But having my own house will become a luxury I can no longer afford.”

  “Say no more,” Vickie interjected. “Of course you’re welcome to stay here. Brody and Marissa are almost moved into the new house. Until they get their kitchen organized, they’ll still have meals with us, but they’re sleeping over there already.”

  Slade nodded. “I second that, and I won’t hear of you paying us rent. Maybe you’re all grown up, but to me, you’ll always be my baby girl. Anything we can do to help you return to school will be a privilege, not a burden.”

  Erin released a breath and with it went all her nervousness. “I knew you’d be supportive. Please don’t think I doubted that. It just feels so weird to be thinking about quitting a good job and being broke all the time again. I thought I’d left those days behind me, and it’s humiliating to find myself with my hand out.”

  “You haven’t asked for money,” he said.

  “No, and I don’t plan to, but I am asking for low-cost room and board. That’s pretty much the same thing.”

  Vickie dunked the cookie in her coffee. “Staying with family when times are rough isn’t the same at all. And it’s not as if you’ll be lollygagging. You’ll have some kind of job, plus your coursework at the university. Students often need a helping hand. Look at Kennedy. He works here only part-time now, but he still gets room and board as one of his benefits.”

  “I know. But I won’t be on Uncle Slade’s payroll and earning the right to live here.”

  “It’s your birthright,” Slade countered. “You’re my flesh and blood.”

  Erin wanted to hug both of them. “Nothing will happen right away. I have to keep working at the department until I get my folks paid back for my first round of education. I’ll be settled up with them next winter. Then, no matter how upset they get, I’ll tell them that law enforcement just isn’t for me.”

  Slade’s jaw muscle started to tic. “I think it’s inexcusable that they expect to be repaid for what they spent on their own daughter’s education.”

  “Slade,” Vickie said softly, a note of caution lacing her tone.

  He held up a hand. “I know. I shouldn’t criticize her parents, but damned if I can keep my mouth shut. It’d be different if Gordon was a blue-collar worker living from payday to payday. But he’s done well for himself. They’ve saved and invested. Their home is a showplace in a classy area of a town populated by mostly wealthy people. I just don’t get it.”

  Vickie laid her hand on her husband’s wrist. “I know it bothers you, but we don’t know the whole story, and Erin’s financial arrangements with them aren’t any of our business.”

  Slade patted Vickie’s fingers and reached for a cookie. “You’re right. Sorry, Erin. I just don’t understand people who make their daughter feel guilty for the help they gave her. Especially not when they go on elaborate vacations every single year.”

  Erin couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re right, and I completely agree. But that’s just how they are. And in all fairness to them, paying them back was my idea. Even if I remain a cop, I’ll never feel truly independent as long as I owe them a dime. And if I quit law enforcement while still in their debt, my father will go ballistic. It’s a strange dynamic, but essentially he feels that he has a right to interfere in my life as long as I’m indebted to him.”

  “That’s sad,” Slade observed. “Granted, I’m new to being a dad, but if Brody ends up owing me a few bucks here and there, I’ll never hold it over his head. I’ll just feel blessed to help him in any way I can.”

  Erin knew her relationship with her parents was a mess. “I’m glad they take fabulous vacations every year. It was due to one of those trips that they left me on your doorstep, and when I look back on my childhood, that month with you is my favorite memory. I’m so glad I had that time with you.” She angled a look at Vickie. “And you needn’t worry that anything Uncle Slade says about my parents is going to offend me. They’re unusual, to say the least. When I was little, I wished that Uncle Slade was my dad. I still do, even now.”

  Vickie nodded. “Way back when, I knew your mother pretty well. When I called to invite them to our wedding, she said she couldn’t possibly attend because of her allergies.”

  Erin rocked back on her chair and laughed. “Allergies? To what?”

  “Animals, grass, pine trees.” Vickie chuckled, too. “Dirt of any kind, I imagine. She always hated being on a ranch and couldn’t wait to turn eighteen so she could escape to the city.”

  Just thinking about her mom gave Erin a slight headache. But she hadn’t come here to bash her parents, as much as they might deserve it. “I really appreciate your support. It’s crazy to think about throwing away the life I’ve built and starting over, but I’m truly unhappy as things stand, so I think I’ll do it, insane though it may be. Thank you so much for the offer of lodging. It’s a relief to know that option will be available to me.”

  “Follow your heart,” Slade said.

  They chatted for several more minutes, which Erin greatly enjoyed. But she cut the visit short, even so. No matter how much they insisted that they wanted her to stay for dinner, they were still newlyweds, and she didn’t want to be a pest. She even protested when her uncle tried to walk her to the car, so, to humor her, he hugged her goodbye at the door.

  As she started to get in the truck, she heard someone call her name and turned to see who it was. Kennedy strode from a cluster of small pines next to the south paddocks and angled across the gravel parking area near the house. Tall, sturdy, and blond, he looked so much like his older brother, Wyatt, that her heart squeezed. Shoving aside her bruised feelings over Wyatt’s cold manner toward her yesterday, she smiled and waited for the younger m
an to reach her.

  “Hey, Erin. If you’re in a hurry, I understand, but if you have a few minutes, I was wondering if we could talk.”

  Kennedy had started college winter term, and Erin had heard at the wedding reception that his spring finals were coming up soon. She hoped he wasn’t having problems at school. “Sure. What’s up? If you’ve got a class that’s kicking your butt, you’re not the first person and won’t be the last. My first year, I thought for sure I was going to flunk out.”

  “No. It’s not about school.” Kennedy glanced over his shoulder. “It’s—um—well, kind of personal. Do you have time to walk down to the creek? Nobody will overhear us there.”

  Erin liked Kennedy, but they weren’t what she would call close friends. If he wasn’t having issues with his studies, what on earth did he want to talk to her about? “A walk to the creek sounds great.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Kennedy led Erin to a quiet spot down by Mystic Creek, which flowed from the mountains to traverse the entire length of the Wilder Ranch. She guessed the young man came here often. A fallen tree, long since debarked and limbed by winter storms, provided a place for them to sit. She joined him on the log, keeping her distance but sitting close enough for them to converse over the babble of the stream.