by Robyn Carr
“I’ll have to go to two meetings tomorrow after spending the night with you big drinkers,” she said.
Cal laughed at her. “Three of us had eight beers in six hours. As celebrations go, it was pretty tame.”
“If it bothers you...” Dakota began.
“It doesn’t,” she said. “But I’m going to feel a lot better than you tomorrow morning.”
“Since you’re going to feel so good tomorrow, want to take me out on the trail?” Dakota asked. Molly rose from her sleeping spot, shook herself awake and leaned against Dakota’s thigh. Waiting. “Does this one go hiking?”
“Sometimes I take Molly and Beau, Sully’s lab. But I can only stay out there a couple of hours at most if they’re with me.” She stood. “I’ll come for you at 8:20. Come on, Connie. Time to put the baby to bed.”
Dakota and Cal snapped to attention.
“Molly,” she said. “I meant Molly.”
“Shew,” Dakota said. “If there was another one, I was going to run for my life!”
“There’s just Elizabeth,” Sierra said. “And they won’t commit to whether they’ll add to the family. And I’m definitely not in the game.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Duh. Our crazy father and his genetic code, for one thing. Come on, Connie. It’s past our bedtime.”
Dakota looked at his watch. “This is a real lively crowd,” he said, standing to say good-night. He kissed his sister’s cheek. “See you in the morning. By the way, you’re looking good.”
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “So are you. A little shaggy, but good.”
Dakota flashed her a grin. Behind his dark beard, it was dazzling.
Sierra combed her fingers along his cheeks, through his beard. “Little gray coming in here, Cody.”
“I earned it,” he said. He kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning.”
* * *
In the seventeen years since Dakota left his family behind for the Army, the time he spent with them was infrequent and brief. Cal and Sedona tried to keep up with him. He visited them for important events—Cal’s wedding to Lynne, then his wedding to Maggie. When Sedona’s children were born, he checked in. He never stayed long. Sierra, who was so special to him, had been a wild card until she found sobriety. He had visited for a couple of days at a time, that’s all. He didn’t want to get too attached to them.
This time was different. The second, third and fourth days came and went. He hiked with Sierra, then Cal, then just the dogs. He dug out Sully’s garden for spring planting. They repaired the grills and picnic tables and talked all the while. Sully was very cool for an old guy. He admitted he came home from Vietnam with some PTSD and asked how Dakota had fared in that regard. “Oh, I’ve got PTSD all right,” Dakota said. “Probably more from my personal life than my military experience.”
“Then aren’t you one of the lucky ones,” Sully said.
Dakota cleaned out the gutters around Sully’s house and store and threw the balls for the dogs. Then he had to bathe the dogs because it had rained and they got into the freshly turned soil and compost in the garden. While hanging out at the Crossing he met Tom Canaday, the guy who helped Cal renovate the barn that was now his stunning house. Tom was Sully’s good friend and part-time handyman, a single dad with two kids in college and two still in high school. When Tom told him all the jobs he’d had while raising his kids, Dakota was inspired.
Maybe it wasn’t necessary for him to make big, permanent decisions about what to do for work or where to settle. Maybe he could coast for a little while. “Think a guy like me could work on a road crew?” he asked Tom. “Or haul trash?”
Tom laughed. “A vet who served? Who has ties to the town? Hell, Dakota, anyone would hire you. I’ll give you a recommendation. You just have to decide what you want to do. I’ve been working for the county for almost twenty years.”
“I should probably pick up trash,” he said. “Penance for all my misdeeds.”
“Misdeeds?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Cal said you were a decorated soldier.”
“I just about undecorated myself before it was all over,” he said. He scratched his beard. “I guess I should get a haircut. Do I need to lose the beard?”
Tom laughed. “This is Colorado, man. You look homegrown.”
“Good. I’ve grown kind of attached.” He grinned. “So to speak.”
“I’ll find out what they’re hiring for and get you an application.”
When he went home from Sully’s after a productive day, he found Cal in his home office, just hanging up the phone.
“So, you’re still here,” Cal said. “It’s been five days. I think that’s a record.”
“Am I getting underfoot?” Dakota asked.
“I’ve hardly noticed you,” he said. “You feeling underfoot?”
Dakota shook his head, leaning against the door frame.
“Baby bothering you?” Cal asked.
“The baby is kind of awesome,” Dakota said. “I’m not babysitting, however.”
Cal laughed. “We managed before you arrived, we’ll continue to manage.”
“So, what if I hung around?” he asked.
“What if?” Cal returned.
“Would that be weird for you?”
“Nah. I actually like you. Sort of.” Then he sobered. “You’re welcome here, Dakota. And thanks for helping Sully. It’s appreciated.”
“Everyone was helping him get the grounds ready, but I think now it’s going to rain. For days.”
“That’s what I hear,” Cal said. “Every March the rain comes, every March Sully gets the campground ready for summer. Well, spring and summer. We all help out. It wasn’t expected of you, so thanks. Now what?”
“Well,” he said, scratching his chin. “I’m going to get a haircut, trim the beard a little, get a job, look for a place to live...”
“I’m not throwing you out,” Cal said. “If you can live with Elizabeth, you can stay here. The rent’s cheap.”
“Elizabeth is a hoot,” he said. “I thought I’d rent something because it’s what I do. That doesn’t mean I won’t hang out with you sometimes.”
“This sounds kind of long-term,” Cal said.
“For me,” Dakota clarified. “A few months, anyway. I like the Crossing, the trails, the lake, the people. Seems like a good place to collect my thoughts.”
“We’d love it if you were close,” Cal said. “Listen, you okay here by yourself for a few days? It’s time for Maggie to go to Denver again. Three to four days a week she operates and sees patients. She has a babysitter there but I don’t have any clients or court appearances so I’m going along this time. I won’t be back unless someone calls and needs me.”
Dakota laughed and ran a hand over his head. “All this flexibility is giving me a rash. I’m used to a strict routine.”
“Fine,” Cal said. “Have a strict routine, that won’t bother anyone. But Maggie and I have Elizabeth and two careers. Not to mention Sully and a campground. Just let me know if you’re going to be around for a meal, that’s all I need from you. Well, that and if you’re going to stumble in at 3:00 a.m. and make me get out the rifle because I think someone’s breaking in. That would involve communication, Dakota. You haven’t exactly excelled in that.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said. “You have my cell number, right?”
“You have enough money to rent your own place? Because I—”
“I got it,” Dakota said. “And I’ll be sure to call so you can throw another potato in the soup.”
Cal was quiet for a moment. “It’s been good. Having you around,” he finally said.
“I’ll do my best not to screw that up,” Dakota said.
Cal, Maggie and Elizabeth left very early in the morning for Denver. If Dakota understood things correc
tly, Maggie would go straight to work, seeing patients all morning, then operating all afternoon, then repeating that cycle again and again. One week it would be three long days, the next week it would be four days. Once a month she would be on call to the emergency room, adding a fifth day to her cycle. And Cal, a criminal defense attorney, was seeing clients in his home office or other meeting places—the diner, the Crossing on Sully’s porch, the bookstore—and for anything from wills to real estate deals. Once in a while he actually got someone out of jail. Dakota filed that information away in case he needed it.
That left Dakota on his own for a few days. And as Sully had predicted, it rained. And rained.
He dropped into a real estate office and picked up a flyer of local rental properties, then headed for a haircut. He looked up and down the street and found that the barbershop was closed so he dropped in to the beauty shop. Fancy Cuts. He stepped inside the door and spied six chairs and three clients with hair stylists. He flashed that million-watt smile of his and said, “I’m not looking for anything real fancy, but can you handle a head and a beard left unattended awhile?”
Less than a moment passed. A beautiful young woman took a step toward him. “I’ve got this,” she said confidently to the other stylists, both older women. “Give me five minutes. Have a seat.”
She went back to her client, an elderly woman whose hair seemed to be a mass of pink sausages. “You can’t be done in five minutes,” the client said a bit more loudly than necessary.
“Oh, yes, I will,” said the beauty. “And you’ll love it.”
“Well, it better not be—”
The stylist applied a brush and went to town. She fluffed out the woman’s hair, did a little backcombing and shaping, sprayed some spray.
Dakota picked up a magazine and idly paged through it. Good oral hygiene had never served him better. In five minutes he was in the chair with the beautiful Alyssa running a comb casually through his dark hair. “What are we doing with you today?”
Dakota was suddenly conscious of how long it had been since he’d had sex. “Nothing special,” he said. Up against the wall work for you? “Just trim it up, and can you trim the beard? Not Hollywood, just not Duck Dynasty.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, showing him a brilliant smile of her own. “Let’s start with a good shampoo. Right this way.”
He didn’t mention he’d already done that in his morning shower but instead let her lead him to the back. While she massaged his scalp and quizzed him, he just let his eyes close gently. He had a brother not so far from here, he said. He was just out of the Army and planned on exploring the country a little, starting here. He liked to fish and hike. He wasn’t making any plans for a while. He was deliberately vague. This was a small town. He didn’t want to do or say anything that might reflect badly on Cal or Sierra and all those attached. Until he got the lay of the land, he’d be a little mysterious.
But her fingers in his hair felt amazing. “You married, Alyssa?” he asked in a soft, smoky voice.
“Still waiting for the right guy, Dakota,” she whispered back. “Do you have a lot of friends around here?” she asked, smothering his head with a towel and leading him back to her station.
“My brother’s friends,” he said with a shrug. “A few nice people.”
“No girlfriend?”
He met her eyes in the mirror. “No girlfriend.”
“I take that to mean there’s no wife or fiancée, either?” she asked.
He shook his head, feeling like great sex could be minutes away. It was a feeling, not something he’d act on. This was Cal and Sierra’s town. Hit-and-run wouldn’t work. The repercussions could make life difficult for people he cared about and he wouldn’t risk it. But this Alyssa, long-legged, beautiful, friendly, ready—this held great promise. He might have found himself a woman to pass the time with. It was worth considering. And it was worth slowing down and using caution.
“You know your way around a pair of scissors,” he said, looking in the mirror. The haircut was excellent; the beard was looking good.
“You okay with the gray?” she asked. “Because if you’re not...”
“I think it’s fine,” he said. “I earned every one.”
“That’s good, because I like it. It’s very attractive.”
“Are you buttering me up for a good tip?” he teased.
“You’re kidding, right? Since you’re new to the area, could you use someone to show you around?”
“That might come in handy,” he said. “Right now I have somewhere I have to be. Maybe you’d trust me with your phone number?”
“Sure,” she said. She waited for him to get out his phone, then rattled off the digits. “I’d be more than happy to. This is a great little town. Full of possibilities.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Well, Alyssa, thanks for a good job. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
He paid in cash; the tip was excellent. He put on his jacket, turned the collar up and walked out into the rain. He went down the block and across the street to the diner. Sierra was working today. He’d have lunch and show her his flyer of rental properties.
Dakota took a booth at the diner and let Sierra wait on him. He ordered a bowl of soup, half a sandwich and a coffee. It wasn’t long before Sierra slid into the booth with a slice of blueberry pie.
“Is that for me?” he asked.
She looked at it for a second. “Yes,” she said. Then she went back behind the counter and got another slice of pie, making him laugh at her.
“You’re so thoughtful,” he said.
“I am,” she said. “In the early summer we have rhubarb pie and rhubarb cobbler. I think this year I’m going to learn to bake.”
“When are you going to learn to get married?” he asked. “Seems like six months ago Connie asked us all if we would give consent and I guess I thought...”
“Well, you old fogy, you.” She grinned at him. “We keep meaning to plan something. Hey, Cal’s gone, right? Connie’s off tonight. It’s going to be cold and rainy. We’re having a fire and soup. Wanna come over?”
“I don’t know. Is there any nightlife around here?” he asked.
“Yeah—at our house. Fire and soup. Connie’s cooking. It’s amazing. Firemen are excellent cooks. Maybe if you’re very good, we’ll put on a movie. Or play a board game.”
He gave her a steady look. “I don’t think it’s going to take me long to get really bored.”
“You coming?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug.
Blood is thicker than water.
—GERMAN PROVERB
2
DAKOTA HAD LOOKED at three potential rental properties after lunch. They were adequate but a little large for just one guy and none of them felt right. He made an appointment with a property manager for the next morning and he looked at four more rentals. The last one was in the country, about ten miles from town. The cabin had a nice big porch. It was on a hillside and a creek ran past. There was a small bridge crossing the creek. “The creek swells in spring and early summer,” the agent said. “It was built as a vacation cabin. The owner liked to fish. He claimed the fishing was good in that creek.”
Dakota asked if they could go inside. It was a decent size, probably nine hundred square feet. There were two bedrooms, one medium-size bath, a galley kitchen and a nice big table, sofa and chair all in the great room. There was no TV but there was a desk. “Does it come furnished?” he asked.
“It can,” the agent said. “The owner is deceased and the heirs are letting it go. Our office is managing the property for now. We’re prepared to remove what you don’t want, leave what you can use. There’s no washer or dryer.”
“I hate doing laundry,” he said, smiling at her. In fact, he had both a brother and a sister with machines he could borrow. And there was always c
ommercial laundry. “How much?”
“It’s pricey,” she said. And indeed, it was more than the larger houses he’d looked at. It was quaint. Rustic. There was a stone fireplace. The appliances looked fairly new, maybe a couple of years old. “It’s kind of isolated,” she said. “The water heater is new, the roof is in good repair, everything in the kitchen is functional. Even the ice maker.”
He didn’t say anything. He just walked around, touching the leather sofa, opening the kitchen cabinets. He lay down on the bed. He wasn’t sure about the mattress yet—it might need to be upgraded. He’d brought only clothes and vital papers with him to Colorado. It looked pretty well stocked. Based on what he saw, he could fry an egg, microwave a meal, dry off after a shower. He could get himself a small grill. He might trade out the linens for new but it was in good shape. Better than some Army quarters he’d stayed in.
Then he stepped back outside onto the porch. There, on the other side of the creek, he saw deer. A buck, a couple of does and a very new fawn. One doe looked ready to give birth. He looked around the porch. “It needs a good chair.”
“There isn’t one but you could pick one up pretty cheap.”
“I’ll take it,” he said.
There was a rental agreement to sign and the property manager had to run him through a credit check. Fortunately, he knew his credit was excellent, and even though he’d been in the brig and stood a court-martial, he learned when he purchased the Jeep that his military incarceration didn’t show up in civilian records. “You just tell me when you’re ready for me to sign papers. You have my cell number.”
He was oddly euphoric about this cabin in the woods. A man could sit quietly on that porch and watch nature, watch wildlife. He imagined that in the dark of night he would hear wildlife and in the morning, birds. He would be busy because he liked being busy, but he would thoroughly enjoy relaxing in a small, isolated cabin. He’d like sleeping there. He’d like listening to the rain there.
He hadn’t really imagined this scenario—that he’d come to Colorado and get his own place and be within a short drive of family. Actual family. He thought he’d visit, check them out, maybe stay a little longer than was typical for him, then press on. But then, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He’d left his Army family. Where else would he turn? Even though Dakota was independent, he liked having people in his life. There had always been soldiers. He took good care of them, they took good care of him.