Take Me Home

by Inez Kelley

  Jonah dropped his axe and assumed a body-builder’s pose, tightening muscles and grimacing. The women burst out laughing.

  “Asshole,” Matt chuckled.

  “We brought lunch.” Kayla opened the back door of her car and tugged at the cooler.

  An impromptu but welcome picnic halted the cutting. Matt and Webb rolled a few of the larger log pieces over to use as seats while the women dished up subs, pasta salad, fruit, chips and gallons of icy sweet tea.

  Kayla wore a flowy skirt with a pale top. His eyes slid along her legs, unable to stop remembering them wrapped around his hips last night as she rocked under him. His jeans grew tight and he shifted, forcing his eyes away. Damn, he was a dog. All he could think was there was a perfectly good bed in the sugarhouse that needed to be broken in.

  He ran his hand along her back as she laughed at some story Jonah told, interspersed with Webb’s less flamboyant account of what really happened. The easy atmosphere of friends kicking back and relaxing seeped into his bones. He could easily see a late-night bonfire blazing or a winter snowmobile gathering. Kayla meshed well with his crowd. Jonah’s humor never got overly crude in mixed company and she laughed at him and with him. Webb didn’t intimidate her, either. They found common ground with some of his travels and went off on their own tangent about Europe.

  Kayla fit in with his life. She stirred his blood and engaged his mind. He drained his plastic cup and swallowed the truth. He was in love with her.

  She cocked her head, the golden fall of her hair hiding her expression from everyone else. “You okay? I brought your medicine just in case.”

  “I’m fine.” Moving closer, he ran his nose along the curve of her jaw. “But I might be sore later. Any chance for a massage?”

  “Hmm, maybe.” She leaned into his touch as he nibbled at the shell of her ear.

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “You always do.” Her lips were warm, carrying the sugary-sweetness of the tea. Her mouth parted under his and he forgot there were others around.

  “People, we’re eating here.” Jonah scowled with mock-disgust.

  A blush colored Kayla’s cheeks as she pulled back. “I need to clean up this mess, anyway.”

  Jonah snickered as she stepped out of earshot. “Cock block.”

  “Dick!” Matt lobbed a piece of ice at him, nailing him on the shoulder.

  Kayla and Molly gathered the lunch debris, tossing the scraps in the firepit. Matt promised to burn it when they were done then went back to his axe. The women hauled linens and other supplies into the sugarhouse and feminine laughter competed with the falling blades for a short time. When they came out, the axes halted. No one wanted to accidentally send a woodchip into pretty skin.

  Kayla pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “How much longer do you think you’ll be?”

  He looked around, calculating the logs left to split divided by three. “Hour, maybe.”

  “Okay.” She turned to Jonah and Webb. “Thanks a lot, guys. I really appreciate this.”

  “Our pleasure,” Webb said. Jonah merely waved her thanks away.

  Matt’s eyes followed her as she settled in the passenger’s side, buckling her seat belt and tightening her ponytail. How could something so common be so damned sexy? He stared until the car’s taillights were swallowed by the forest.

  “You got it bad.” Jonah propped his axe on the back of his neck, his wrists loosely looped around the stalk.

  “Maybe I do.”

  Webb pulled up short. “Seriously?”

  It wasn’t PC to tell his buddies before his girl but he couldn’t hide it. Matt nodded. “Yeah.”

  His best friends exchanged quick looks of surprise. Jonah cracked first. “You going to propose?”

  Matt hadn’t gotten quite that far in his head yet but he couldn’t deny the appeal in the suggestion. “Don’t know yet. I just... Hell, maybe.”

  “Good.” Webb hefted a wood chunk the size of a fire hydrant, setting it upright before bringing his axe down with a thwap. “She’s a sweetheart. Molly likes her a lot.”

  Jonah gathered the cut pieces but was less enthusiastic. “Damn. Nothing against Kayla. I like her but, damn. Another man bites the dust.”

  “Leaves more women for you.” Matt grinned.

  This reminder perked Jonah up. His phone already held female names and numbers that would make a pro football team drool. “Sweet. And hey, if you do decide to get hitched, let me know. I look fucking fabulous in a tux. Plus there’s a jeweler out of Charleston who owes me a favor. Get you a good deal on a rock.”

  The last of the wood split quickly. They stacked it outside the back wall then gathered cut limbs, leaves and other trash. Bless Kayla’s soul, she’d tucked a twelve-pack at the bottom of the cooler, buried deep in the melting ice. It was the perfect way to wind down.

  They stood around the crackling pit, chugged the first beers then sipped the second while watching heat waves soar skyward. Matt’s sore muscles actually made him grin. This type of muscle burn he could handle. He’d come to some type of peace with his past, was in love with a gorgeous woman, was surrounded by his best friends and had done a day’s work. Life was good.

  “Hey, guys, I want to show you something.” Webb tossed his bottle in the barrel of non-burnables and headed for his truck.

  Matt straightened and shot a fast look to Jonah but the other man’s brows knotted low in question. He had no clue what was up either.

  Webb returned with a manila folder in his hands. He handed it to Jonah but Matt sidled closer, reading over his shoulder. “This is official as of yesterday but we haven’t made any announcements yet, so keep it quiet in public for now.”

  The contents widened Matt’s eyes. “Son of a bitch, you bought Black Cherry Canyon?”

  “Outbid the Department of Natural Resources. Black Cherry Canyon is mine.” Webb crowed.

  “And the bank’s,” Jonah reminded him, flipping over a page.

  An acquiescing nod dipped Webb’s head. “True. Plus, the state retained the actual park and the falls. But the rest is mine, all twenty-five hundred acres of it. Acreage that hasn’t been harvested in nearly a hundred years and never by a full-scale operation. I’m talking millions of dollars in untouched lumber aching to be cut.”

  “And a million and a half problems waiting to happen.” Jonah grimaced. “Black Cherry Falls is a state park. EPA, DEP and every other governmental regulation committee are going to be up your ass three ways from Sunday. Which means you’ll be up my ass like a bad burrito.”

  “Nothing you can’t handle, pretty boy.” Webb twisted the cap off his third beer. “It’s an opportunity that was just sitting there waiting for someone with balls enough to pluck it up.”

  “You must be packing a brass set,” Jonah griped.

  Webb ignored him. Matt could see the politician in him judging his words, measuring them against the businessman and the lumberman inside. It was like watching the clouds roll in for a thunderstorm. Only a damn fool underestimated a thunderstorm.

  “This could be very good for everyone or a hell of a mess. I’m counting on you to help me. The other staff are good, don’t get me wrong, but you two...”

  The statement faltered but the sentiment didn’t. This was a major step forward for Hawkins but it held the potential to blow up in a huge way.

  “We got your back,” Matt promised.

  They looked at Jonah, who merely rolled his eyes. “Aw fuck me, man. You know I’m in. I just like to bitch.”

  “There’re others who can handle the smaller logging jobs but this is too big to delegate. Matt, consider this a promotion. Nichols can handle the logging elsewhere but I want you on site, overseeing day-to-day operations. I want genus analysis and estimated footage weekly. Also any potential problem areas we
might not know about.”

  Matt’s mind whirled. Black Cherry Canyon was a gold mine of opportunity that stretched into three separate counties with a dozen different terrains. Automatically, he started estimating crew sizes and planning approaches, then stopped, realizing he couldn’t do it in his head. It was too big with too many variables. The scope of the project was immense, would span several years easily, with an unlimited prospective crop once properly managed. The increase in his pay could be a boon, as well, especially if he did propose.

  “Steaks, grill, booze, my place, ’bout seven tonight.” Webb stirred the glowing embers with a long metal pole. “Time to celebrate, gentlemen. Hawkins Hardwood is entering a brand-new phase.”

  Matt sipped his beer and grinned. So was he. He tilted his head back, letting the sun warm his cheeks. It felt like the mountains were smiling down on him at last.

  * * *

  Molly sang along with the radio, a country song about a red dress and a sin wagon as Kayla laughed. Her mind slipped into a slow replay of last night. She’d worried that Matt was still too bruised for anything but he’d proven her wrong. Twice.

  The country lane was rough and winding, cutting through farmland carved into the mountain passes. Kayla pointed to a two-story stone house off to the left. Molly flipped on her blinker.

  “They have dairy cows.” Molly nodded to a higher field of lounging cattle and a barn. “Cool. Not many working farms still in this area.”

  The ruts along the drive were deep and the car bounced even at a slow speed. Their approach was noticed long before Molly shut the engine off, and a stout man stood waiting for them.

  “What can I do for you ladies?”

  Kayla climbed from the car, carrying a coffee cake. “Mr. Snyder?”

  “One of ‘em.” He stuck out a hand the size of a dinner plate. “Mitch.”

  “I’m Kayla Edwards. I own the property next to yours. Thought it was about time I stopped by to say hello. This is my friend, Molly McCreedy.”

  He pushed a dirty ball cap high on his forehead then took the offered plate. “Right nice of you. Come on in the house.” He led the way inside a mudroom and into a kitchen straight from a 1950s sitcom. It wasn’t reproduction but authentic and time-worn. He poured tall glasses of sweet tea and handed them around before starting a pot of coffee.

  “Evelyn went into town but she’ll be glad to know you stopped by. We seen you ’round here and there. Built you a new house, didn’t you? Nice to have the old place occupied. Been empty too long.”

  Kayla and Molly settled at the chrome and red table. Idle chitchat about where she was from and how she ended up here stretched while they waited for coffee to brew and ate slices of her cake. Kayla told him about her business and he told her about his farm. It had been in the same family for over a hundred years and his father had been born in this very house. He and his wife raised four boys off the land. They were all scattered to different parts of the country now, with only the youngest son sticking around to help.

  “Do you know Squeak Iverson?”

  Snyder laughed, a deep barrel roll of sound that filled the room. “Everybody in these parts knows Squeak. He’s getting on in years, though.”

  “He said you might be able to tell me how the maple sap has been running in the past few seasons.”

  His fleshy lips puckered. “Pretty good. Why? You starting up the old Shaw sugarhouse?”

  “The sugarhouse on my property?” Kayla frowned. “Yes, I want to get it back up and working. What did you call it?”

  Snyder waved. “Don’t mind me. I get stuck in the past. Shaws owned that land for generations before you—well, before the bank, I guess. I figure a couple different banks swapped that land over the years.” His neck elongated, head swiveling toward the door. “That’s Evelyn’s car now.”

  Numbness invaded Kayla’s bones. Shaw wasn’t an uncommon name. It could have been a coincidence. But Matt’s familiarity with the land took on an ominous note. Molly looked at her with wide eyes but there was no time for questions as Evelyn Snyder bustled into the room carrying four plastic grocery sacks.

  Snyder made the introductions then scratched his chin. “Ev, the old Shaw place, when the bank take it?”

  The older woman thought back, the cake knife poised in her hand. “Lord, it’s been close to twenty years now. Damned shame, too. They was good people. Fought tooth and nail to keep that place. But times was rough then with the mine closing.”

  “Paul, wasn’t it?” Snyder asked.

  “Carl. Paul was his daddy. Carl and Deb Shaw.” Evelyn cut herself a slice of cake and heaved her ample frame into a chair. “They had the prettiest little girl, Abigail. Long hair, always in braids, and freckles on both cheeks. I always wanted a girl. Had to wait until our oldest boy got married to get one, though.”

  “The Shaw boy used to run with our Tim. What was his name?”

  Evelyn stirred sugar from a bowl into her cup. “Matthew. Good-looking boy, hard worker. Last I heard, he joined the army.”

  The fork fell from Kayla’s hand. Molly’s mouth gaped like a hooked fish, her wild eyes locked on Kayla’s face. The coffee cake balled in her stomach, churning into a lump of concrete. Somehow, she made polite excuses—at least she hoped they were polite. Molly jumped in, thanking them for the coffee and swearing Kayla would be back. She hustled her out of the house and shoved her in the passenger seat.

  She didn’t say a word until they pulled off the Snyder’s lane and onto blacktop. “You didn’t know?”

  Kayla shook her head. Her mind refused to process. It couldn’t be true. Both Matthew and Shaw weren’t unusual names. It could be another family. Another family with a daughter named Abigail. Cotton wrapped around her tongue but she dug into her purse for her phone. She just needed to find out, needed one unmitigated fact before she believed it. She dialed Abby’s number.

  “Hello?”

  She licked her lips, trying to work enough spit in her mouth that she could talk. “Abby, did Matt have a dog growing up?”

  “What?”

  Tension screeched through her scalp and exploded into a headache. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “A dog, Abby. Did he have a dog?”

  “He had a German Shepherd for a while but he died. Why?”

  “What was its name?”

  “Reeses, like the peanut butter cup.”

  She didn’t bother saying goodbye, simply clicked the Off button. “Take me home, Molly.”

  Her mind was in a state of shock and nothing processed. Matt had been lying to her all this time. True, he never denied it had been his family’s land but he hadn’t told her it was, either.

  The drive was short, too short. In just a few minutes, her house sprang from the horizon. Her house, not his. She’d torn his down. It had been beyond saving.

  Molly killed the engine but didn’t move. “Don’t jump to concl—”

  “He lied.”

  “Talk to him. You guys are so good together.”

  Kayla grabbed her door handle. “I’ll call you later.”

  I won’t. I just need to be alone. Go away.

  Goose bumps erupted along her arms. The temperature hadn’t dropped but a bone-cold frost enveloped her. She chafed her arms, unable to feel the sun stretching her shadow across the porch steps. Behind her, Molly sighed. Eventually, the sound of a car driving away penetrated her fog.

  She was paralyzed. Nothing worked. Her feet rooted to the ground and held her captive. She looked around, seeing the old and new clashed together. The lilacs at the edge of the yard, those had been here. The rock bed hadn’t. The swing was gone. A festive flag was new.

  Around her, the mountains ringed the land, cradling it like a baby in a mother’s arms. Had Matt stood here, before another house, and seen the same view? Of course he had. This
was his heritage. Once again, she was the new girl, the outsider.

  You’ve got it all. Everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Kayla blinked. She must have come inside but didn’t remember climbing the steps. Four meowed around her ankles, begging for attention but she couldn’t find the energy to bend down and stroke the kitten. Her knees weakened. On shaky legs, she stumbled to the couch, pulling a knitted afghan around her shoulders.

  You’ve got it all. Everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Four jumped, crawling over the cushion and wedging herself inside the blanket. Meowing, she pawed at Kayla’s shirt. Kayla pulled her close and ran her fingers over the egg-sized head. Why hadn’t he told her? He’d had so many chances. When he’d first rang her doorbell, when they’d cruised the trees, when they’d discovered Reeses’s grave. So many opportunities and he’d stayed silent.

  You’ve got it all. Everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Jesus, Kayla, you have everything. I just want a piece of it to call my own. If you won’t help me, then fuck you. Get out.

  Pammie’s words from so long ago blended with Matt’s silence, the betrayals melding. Everyone looked out for themselves. No matter how friendly they seemed in the beginning, they always wanted something.

  Four nibbled at Kayla’s thumb, wrapping tiny paws around her hand and clinging tight. He’d brought her a pet. He was good, she’d give him that. Rather than bulldoze into her life, Matt had slithered like snake, creeping slowly and softly until she’d been mesmerized and vulnerable. He’d taken her attraction, mimicked it, turned it back on her. He’d heard every word she’d said and used it to become her ideal partner. The hesitation to help with the sugarhouse was so craftily done, so perfectly played, that she should have seen it was a front.

  No one was that perfect, that in tune with another person. Hadn’t that lesson been driven into her head and her heart long ago? How could she have been so stupid?

  Four nipped a bit too hard and Kayla lifted her away, tucking her into her shoulder. The cat turned up the purring and cuddled her. Animals could be excused. They only wanted food and love. Kayla closed her dry, stinging eyes. Love. It was the perfect weapon and Matt had wielded it like a mythical warrior. But she had no one to blame but herself. She knew if something was too good to be true then, duh, it was too good to be true. She’d made a horrible mistake and let her guard down. She’d fallen in love with a man who wanted something from her, the one thing she’d coveted all her life and finally found. A home.