Alex chewed her lip, wandering how everything had got so messed up. She just hoped that the certain someone Ezra had sent earlier had packed up the clothing and other items he wanted to keep. After all, Goodwill was waiting, and Alex didn’t want to waste any time cleaning up.
A shaft of blazing light poured through the bedroom window, and Alex jumped with the notion that someone had pointed a spotlight at the house. Moving to the window, she peered outside and realized that the clouds were lifting off, leaving the afternoon bathed in gloriously warm spring sunshine.
Grinning, she bounded down the stairs and out to the truck to collect her large stash of cleaning supplies. She had a lot of work to do just to clear a spot for her to sleep tonight.
As she pulled the two boxes and her suitcases off of the pickup bed, she spotted a small, propane stove tucked in the corner. Guiltily, she recalled her promise to return the stove to the District Headquarters after her hike. In all the excitement of purchasing the property, she had completely forgotten about it.
Alex left the stove in the pickup, vowing to make a trip to the Headquarters that evening, after she had finished her work for the day. “Better late than never,” she muttered, hoping Mr. James Sheldon the forester would feel that way too.
Waiting for Eden
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 6
The sunset was beautiful. Hanging in the western sky, the last coppery-rose rays outlined the barn with its little spires and weathervane in perfect country melancholy.
Alex down-shifted to first gear and puttered down the driveway with her neck craned, taking in the incredible view. Pleasure flooded her insides with warmth, spreading like the after-effects of a hot cup of Chamomile tea.
If it weren’t for the rumble of the diesel engine, she would surely hear the soothing hum of crickets and the soft shush of an evening breeze through the maples lining the driveway. And it was hers, all of it was hers!
Reflexively, her foot slammed on the brake pad, and the truck came to a sudden halt six inches shy of taking out a section of ‘her own’ fence. “Shit!” she barked expressively, but the smile on her lips held like a permanent fixture. She felt different somehow... and as she pulled out onto Stony Run Road, and giggling, Alex thought she had an inkling of what it was.
She was comfortable! There were no tight stockings cutting off her circulation, no skirts hiking up her thighs, no high heels pinching her toes. She wore practical Hanes undergarments, there was no lacy thong inching up her butt tonight, no sir!
On the trip north, she had stopped at a small clothing outlet called The Crossings, and flaunting convention, had supplemented her wardrobe with six pairs of form-fitting Levi’s, sweat shirts and pants, jackets, functional flannels and tees...all of the simple things that had previously been a definite no-no in Janine-etiquette.
She had even purchased a pair of coveralls for later use when mucking out stalls. Tonight she wore a stone-washed pair of stretch Levi’s that fit her just right, and a green soft-flannel shirt that brought out the highlights in her eyes. She was in heaven.
The District Office was easy to find, an attractive, cedar-sided building right off of Highway 6. There was one vehicle in the driveway, and she truly hoped it belonged to James Sheldon. And that he wouldn’t be rude to her, the way she had been to him.
But an older man came out to greet her when the little bell over the door announced her arrival. “Can I help you, miss?”
Why did everyone always assume she was a miss? She automatically touched her ring finger, seeking the familiar gold band. It wasn’t there.
Alex recalled removing it when she had turned in Richard’s clothes at the Goodwill, and slipping it right into the garment bag. She had later burned the last remaining picture of Elizabeth that she had hidden in her purse.
Alex felt a sinking in her stomach, a physical reminder of a bad memory. Truth now being, she was a ‘miss’.
“Miss?” the man repeated. His hair was sparse and gray, and he had on the same sort of uniform that James had worn. He smiled at her patiently, and his eyes were kind.
“Umm, I’m looking for James Sheldon.”
“He’s not around this evening. Can I help you with anything?”
“Well... James lent me his propane stove several weeks back, and I wanted to return it.”
“You can leave it here, if you like. He won’t be in the office for a couple of days, but he’ll get it eventually.”
“Oh. Thank you, I would appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Alex felt her stomach spasm, and realized she was absolutely starving. “Actually, could you recommend a good restaurant nearby?”
“Sure. Follow Route 6 west about eight miles. Just before you come into Coudersport you’ll see the North Fork Restaurant on the left. Best in the area.”
“Thank you. I’ll go get the stove.” Alex had turned and opened the door, when the older forester called her back.
“Hey, I just thought of something. It’s Friday night, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Jamie will be at the North Fork tonight. He’s a regular on Fridays. You could take the stove along with you, if you like.”
Alex thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. She kind of wanted to see James anyway, to apologize in person for her forgetfulness, and perhaps even her rudeness. He was the first person to make her laugh in a long time. Even if he had made fun of her middle name, she thought with a grin.
The old forester watched her go, and chuckled to himself. Jamie Sheldon had lent her a propane stove? There had to be a good story behind that. Not to mention the little miss had looked darned disappointed that Jamie wasn’t there in person. Yeah, he was sure Jamie would be at the North Fork. Laughing now, he wished he could be there too.
~~~~~~
The North Fork Restaurant was not exactly what Alex expected. It was a large building, log-cabin style, constructed with great, dark wooden beams. A wrap-around porch with a beautiful pine railing completed the picture of a rustic, homey atmosphere.
Alex could discern the slow beat of music from within, but it was nothing like the harsh jukebox wailing that she had expected. There were no winking neon lights, or no drunken couples necking outside. “No fleet of leather-clad bikers, either,” she murmured, and then felt a twinge of chagrin at her city-bred penchant for stereotypes.
Night had fallen swiftly, and the parking area was peppered by lurking shadows. The vast expanse of the sky was devoid of moon and stars, even the last vestiges of the sunset had fled beneath the thick weight of the heavens on her drive from District Headquarters.
With a small ripple of trepidation, Alex noted the only illumination in the lot filtered down from a single, sodium-vapor streetlight. She chided herself then, for this was just not comparable to D.C.
Alex parked the truck and stepped out, breathing deeply. The air was thick and dewy, laden with the moist scent of sleeping earth. Spring peepers sounded noisily from the shadows, their small voices joining in a singular melody, giving the illusion of coming from all around her in the same instant.
The forest loomed behind the building, an imposing backdrop of hulking blackness. The mountain seemed to hover, like a predator avidly waiting for the right moment to swoop down and cloak the unwary valley in a flutter of dark wings and sharp claws.
Although the day had been fairly mild, Alex shivered momentarily. She gave a short chuckle at her own theatrics and headed for the restaurant.
A large shadow wavered as she approached the stairs, and her steps faltered when she realized it belonged to a person. Or at least a very large something was standing next to the stairs, watching her from within the concealing gloom.
After glancing behind her at the empty parking lot, Alex swallowed reflexively, fingered her mace vial, and then forced her body forward. For a few moments, the shadow remained nothing but a shadow. Then she saw the glow of a pale face
, the reflection of window-light on a high, sloping forehead, and inky circles where eye sockets would be.
The dark shape stepped in front of her. It was a man. Alex stopped and cleared her throat while her heart rate accelerated. “Excuse me.”
When she received no response, she leaned forward cautiously, peering upward for a closer look at the... person. Teeth flashed at her, he was smiling. A large, hideous, threatening smile. His eyes were dark hollows, gleaming now as a shard of light danced upon the irises. The smile stretched, widening almost freakishly. Alex’s heart and stomach flip-flopped in the same moment, and she slowly raised the mace.
“MOUSE!” a voice bellowed behind her, and Alex and the hulking shadow jumped a foot in unison. The mace vial clattered to the ground, useless.
A small, heavyset man emerged from the darkness, huffing noisily, a large yellow hamper in his arms. “Mouse, quit scarin’ off my customers!” The hulk-creature hung its head at the rasping reprimand. Alex noticed that its head was bald, and light from a restaurant window now bounced gleefully on the smooth pate.
Still huffing, whether with anger or exertion - Alex didn’t know - the smaller man shoved the hamper at the creature called Mouse. “Go throw this scrap in the woods a piece-way. Far enough that it won’t bring the skunks in the yard.”
Mouse accepted the hamper silently, and sneaked a quick glance at Alex.
“Do you understand English, boy?” the man barked, and Mouse shuffled away, head down again, and Alex caught sight of a pouting frown on full lips. “Don’t strain yer brain none, you’ll squash the pea!” He turned to Alex.
“Sorry miss. Mouse wouldn’t hurt you none.” He chuckled. “Looks scary, is all. Ain’t quite got all his marbles up top, you know what I mean?” He poked at his own scalp in demonstration. The man knelt down and retrieved her mace vial.
“Glad you didn’t mace him, though he prolly deserved it. I need him tonight, it’s busy.”
Alex nodded wordlessly as she accepted the explanation and the mace. What could she say? “I’m hungry,” she blurted.
“I can take care of that little problem. I’ll show you right inside this fine establishment of mine. Plenty to eat, and all of it good.”
The man trundled up the stairs and Alex followed, the quavering in her legs slowly subsiding. The barroom exuded the heavenly smells of food and drink, and was softly lit with several hanging lanterns. A large fire roared in a stone hearth toward the back of the dining area.
The walls were ornamented with antiques, old logging tools, awls, blades of varying proportions. Large wooden beams ran across the ceiling, giving the place an aura of rustic warmth. Suffice to say, she was actually impressed.
“Grab a table, I’ll send Ginny over right away.”
Aware that many curious eyes were now upon her person, Alex scooted into the closest wooden booth, and busied herself with the menu. It definitely wouldn’t help matters to stare back. She might as well get used to the pointed glances, for she was an outsider in a small town, and an attitude about it wouldn’t score her any points.
Through the whole fiasco of the Mouse incident, Alex realized she had forgotten about James. She flashed a quick glance around the large room, and found herself meeting the blatantly open and perusing stares of several young men at the bar. Alex dropped her eyes again, oddly disappointed. James had not among them.
A waitress in tight blue jeans and a tee-shirt that said “Do Something Wild” approached her table. “Can I get you something to drink, honey?”
“I’d like a Coors Light.”
“Will do. Friday night special is prime rib.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’m starving.” The waitress, presumably Ginny, jotted the order down on a pad, and then looked at Alex with a quirky smile. “You just visiting these parts, hon?”
“No. I’m, uh, new in “town,” I’d guess you’d say. I just moved in today.”
“Really?” Ginny dropped her hands to curvaceous hips that seemed molded to the denim they were ensconced in. “Wow. Are you alone?”
“Yes, I’m alone,” Alex responded warily.
“Sorry for the questions, but you’re bound to stir up curiosity. We’re just born plain nosy around here.” Ginny flashed her a grin before sauntering away. Alex relaxed against the firm wooden backing of the booth, and fiddled with her silverware.
The word alone skipped through her head gaily, repeatedly, mocking her. “Shut up,” she muttered under her breath. Alone was a word that had held her captive for many years, with the fear of being just that. Now it would buy her freedom. As well as time, so much time. Alone would be a good thing.
Alone would keep her from thinking about Richard and Elizabeth.
Ginny soon returned bearing a tossed salad and a frosted mug filled with an amber colored liquid. “The guys at the bar sent the beer over. It’s Yuengling Lager. They don’t allow for any Coors Light to be poured on the premises on Friday nights. Say it’s weak as piss water. And sorry for the cuss.”
Reluctantly, Alex raised her eyes in the direction of the bar. Two men had swiveled on their stools to gauge her reaction. The younger blond tipped his hat, the older one with a scrubby beard waved enthusiastically.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Alex fluttered two fingers at them unwillingly, graced them with a half-smile of thanks, and then dropped her eyes to her salad. “Jesus,” she muttered, wishing again that she hadn’t disposed of her wedding band so carelessly.
“Uh oh, they’re coming over,” Ginny giggled. “Go easy on ‘em. Just let me know if you need help.”
The younger one was swaggering, one hand in his pocket, the other hand gripping a beer mug. He might have been what some women termed “cute”, but his upturned nose and baseball cap made him look about eighteen and equally obnoxious to Alex. The older fellow hung back a few steps, his broad mouth stretched in a smile that was almost shy.
“Like the lager?” the blond questioned with what he obviously thought was a rakish grin. He even flexed.
Alex sighed at her terrible luck. “It’s... quite a romantic gesture guys,” she returned dryly. “However, I don’t see what’s wrong with Coors.”
“Coors Light? Tastes more like water than beer. Try the lager. By the way, I’m Lenny and this is Mitchell.”
Alex didn’t offer her name, but took a swig of the lager, and nodded her approval.
“Why, Lenny, this is much better than piss water. You’re obviously a fine connoisseur of premium ales. I’m from the city, so perhaps we could discuss some of my favorite craft brews, like those from Mariner Brewing Company – a small batch brewer homegrown from right here in Pennsylvania? Or, I know… have you ever sampled Willamette Hops? Mmmm. Now that makes a beer a beer.”
The men glanced at each other uneasily. Alex noted wryly that Ginny had strategically deserted the area. “What’s a well-met hops? Are you joking?” the blond one asked with a nervous chuckle.
Mitchell was somber. “I don’t think so, Len.” Alex nearly spat out a mouthful of beer when she realized how closely he resembled Al from the old school sitcom Home Improvement.
But laughter simply would not do in this particular circumstance. She wasn’t in the mood. She wanted to eat, not flirt with the locals. So Alex pierced them both with her best withering glare. “Boys,” she said pointedly, “if you’ll excuse me now, I am hungry. I appreciate the beer, though it really wasn’t necessary. But thank you for the gesture.”
Sniffing, she turned her attention to her salad, stabbing a large chunk of lettuce with her fork and funneling it into her mouth. Alex instantly regretted her hastiness, for the bite was enormous, and she soon had trouble breathing and chewing at the same time.
Mitchell looked suitably chastised, but Lenny’s face turned red and furious at the snub and dismissal.
“What’s going on here guys, don’t tell me you’ve latched on to this poor young lady already!” A man slid smoothly into the seat across from her. Alex’s eyes widen
ed at the familiarity of the face. It was James Sheldon. The hunk of lettuce now lodged itself at the back of her throat, and she struggled to keep from choking on it.
“Oh Jamie, just take a hike, why don’t cha,” Lenny growled. “This city girl was just about to invite us to join her, right honey? She wants to teach me about her well-met top or something fancy.”
“Can’t you see, the girl’s just trying to eat?” James glanced at her, amusement written in the quirk of his mouth. Alex was rendered mute, still chewing furiously, and she had raised a napkin to her lips to hide the unsightly mastication.
“Do you know her or something?” Mitchell questioned.
“Yeah, we’re old friends. Got some catching up to do even. In private.” He slanted a pointed glance at Lenny. Alex nodded quickly to back him up.
Still glaring, Lenny adjusted his cap before striding off to the bar. “Freakin’ city women.” Mitchell followed close behind, an expression of bewilderment still adorning his large features.
Alex finally managed to swallow the last of her food, and cleared her throat. To her own embarrassment, “James,” was all she managed to croak out, and she felt her cheeks flush.
“You certainly do seem to have a recurring problem with food.” James reached across the table and flicked a drop of dressing from the tip of her nose. “Cooking it, eating it...the works. Not to mention your little problem with people.”
“I’m beginning to believe it’s more the people than the food,” she finally managed, after swallowing a long pull of beer. James Sheldon had the uncanny knack of catching her at her worst moments. Off guard, self-conscious, and... inexplicably irritable.
Alex narrowed her hazel eyes, taking in the strong lines of his face, the baby blues that could make any female heart trip over itself, the firm lips quirked in a lazy grin. Jamie’s shoulders were broader than she remembered, and she found herself yet again imagining a smooth, hard chest and the cording of muscles beneath his shirt. Even his fingers exuded strength as he laced them together and leaned forward, propping his chin against them.
Waiting For Eden (Eden Series) Page 6