Stroke of Luck

by B. J Daniels

  No doubt waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  * * *

  LAMAR ATE VERY little even though it tasted wonderful. He was upset about what his father had said to him on the way in. All he could think about was getting Big Jack alone so he could find out what was going on.

  Now as he looked around the table and listened to the chatter and laughter, he saw that the employees seemed to be enjoying themselves. They no longer appeared concerned as to why Big Jack had suddenly wanted to do a retreat in the mountains, isolated and so far from anything.

  The only one who wasn’t eating at all was Lexi Raiser. The shy introvert seemed uncomfortable. As if feeling his gaze on her, she looked up, met his eyes and quickly looked back down again at her plate in her lap. He’d been warned by his brother that Lexi had a crush on him.

  “I swear to you,” Mick had said with a laugh. “I catch her staring at you all the time. She’s got it bad.”

  He’d scoffed since his brother wasn’t the most reliable source when it came to women. “As usual, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lamar had said since Lexi seemed interested in everything going on at the company. She was one of those people who was like the wallpaper. No one noticed her, but she could see all of them.

  But Lamar did think that something was bothering Lexi. A couple of times over the past few weeks, she’d come into his office as if she needed to talk to him and then seemed to have changed her mind and told him something about the sewing department that he really didn’t need to know.

  Maybe he should have tried to draw it out of her. But he hadn’t had the time or energy since he found himself running the place on his own with little help from his father or brother. He knew he hadn’t been doing his best because of it.

  He swore softly under his breath as he stood and moved to the fireplace. The warm blaze crackled and popped. He touched the rough rock absently and told himself Lexi’s problem could be anything. He didn’t need any more complications at the office. Lexi might have to go if she posed a problem and he hated that because she was good at her job in the sewing department.

  “Going on the horseback ride?” Mick asked as he joined him in front of the fire. His brother kept looking back at the large leather couch where Allison was laughing at something Kirk had said.

  “What are we doing here?” he asked his brother quietly.

  “What?” Mick said, looking confused. “We’re going horseback riding. At least I am if the girls are going.”

  “They’re young women and employees, and no, I don’t mean—Why did Dad set up this stupid retreat?”

  “He told me he wanted to reward some of the workers and show you and me where he used to spend a lot of time with his father when he was young,” Mick said.

  “And you believed him?” Lamar shook his head. “If that were true, then why does it feel so...wrong?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m having fun. Maybe you should try it sometime.” With that his brother returned to the couch to say something to Allison, who quickly rose, and the two left, apparently to change for their horseback ride.

  He glanced at his father to see if he was finished eating so maybe they could talk, but Big Jack was busy sipping his drink and looking in a completely different direction. He had sat apart from them during the afternoon snack, saying nothing. Lamar suspected he hadn’t eaten anything. Often his father preferred to drink his meals.

  Now he followed his father’s gaze—straight to Ruby Alder, their fortysomething graphic designer. Ruby was chewing absently on a piece of crust from the bruschetta, her gaze locked with his father’s.

  * * *

  AS THE GUESTS got ready for the horseback ride, Will helped Dorothea take the plates and what little food was left to the kitchen. Poppy was busy chopping something, no doubt for their supper.

  “Your...snacks...were a huge hit,” he said as he put down the nearly empty dishes he’d brought in. “Everything was delicious.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” She turned to face him, a large butcher knife in her hand. The blade caught the light, blinding him for a moment. She chuckled as she put the knife down and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I made the meatballs with you in mind.”

  Again he felt a little tongue-tied. What was it about this woman? “With me in mind?”

  She smiled. “I remembered how you used to love meatballs. I helped your mother make them when I was here that summer.”

  That summer. Was it his imagination or did she keep reminding him of that summer in their past? Or maybe it was his own guilt reminding him. He didn’t know what to say.

  She raised an eyebrow as if seeing his discomfort. “Did you want to talk about dinner? I found Buckshot’s menu plans for the four days your guests will be here. But as I said, I hope you don’t mind if I deviate a little from it.”

  What could he say after what she’d just served? “Of course not.”

  Poppy gave him another smile. “Then I guess we’re all set.”

  He smelled something baking in the oven and realized he shouldn’t be all that surprised that she’d started cooking for later. He took a step closer and caught a whiff of something buttery and rich that rocketed him back to his childhood. “What is that?”

  “It’s actually your mother’s recipe for her butter cookies.”

  Will felt his eyes widen. “Where did you find that?”

  Poppy looked away for a moment. “I borrowed the recipe before I moved away,” she said guiltily. “Every time I made them, they reminded me of this ranch and your family...and you, of course.”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been right about Poppy not forgetting the last time they saw each other all those years ago. So she stole the recipe to get back at him?

  “Your mother knew it by heart. I’m sorry I borrowed it. If I’d known that your mother was going to...”

  “She died too young.”

  Poppy nodded. “Well, now I’ve brought the recipe back so Buckshot can make the cookies for you.” She smiled broadly again. The timer went off. “Would you like a cookie?”

  He did and didn’t. The scent of them baking had brought back so much of his youth, including visions of his mother in this kitchen—and Poppy perched on the counter. The two of them with their heads together as his mother had Poppy stirring something. The two of them laughing as Poppy licked the spoon while his mother put the cookies into the oven to bake.

  How had he forgotten how close Poppy had been to his mother? He could still see her sitting on the counter smiling at him. Her knees scabbed, her cowboy boots scuffed, her green eyes bright as her smile.

  Poppy held out one of the cookies she’d scooped up with a spatula. “I know how much you like them when they’re still warm.”

  “No,” he said, taking a step back. “I’ll wait.” With that he turned and left, feeling assailed by so many memories, good and bad. That Poppy. That long, hot summer. And this Poppy.

  It’s only for four days, he told himself. Then Poppy would be gone, along with the guilt she made him feel. And all the other feelings she evoked in him. Feelings he didn’t even want to put a name to. Four days.

  * * *

  POPPY HEARD WILL announce to the guests that Dorothea would be leaving fresh cookies in their cabins for when they returned from their horseback ride. As she began to box up the cookies for each cabin, she thought about Will’s shocked expression when he’d smelled the familiar cookies baking.

  She was sorry that she’d taken his favorite cookie recipe. At the time, she’d wanted something of Kate and the ranch to bring with her. And, like Will, she adored the cookies. She’d known that his mother hadn’t needed it because she made the cookies by rote. But then Kate had died that next spring, which meant she’d taken the recipe with her to her grave. She hadn’t meant to hurt him or the rest of his family since sh
e figured his mother wouldn’t miss it.

  Looking at the neatly printed recipe card written in Kate’s hand, Poppy felt a wave of grief. She’d loved the woman. Having lost her own mother at three, she’d been instantly drawn to Will’s. Some of her fondest memories at the ranch were of sitting on the kitchen counter while Kate cooked and taught her culinary skills.

  It was there that she’d decided she had to learn to cook, especially since much of what her father made was out of a can. Not that she could fault him. He was busy with his forest service job and raising a headstrong daughter all alone.

  She took the last batch of cookies from the oven, breathing in the buttery scent. She could almost see Kate standing here next to her, explaining how to cream the butter with the sugar gradually to make the cookies light and airy.

  Setting down the pan, she carefully lifted each one off the cookie sheet and set them aside to cool. She had eight boxes of cookies ready for Dorothea to take and some extras that would be available in the lodge. Her guests wouldn’t be going hungry. She took a breath, pleased. Her guilt for taking the recipe aside, she thought her plan seemed to be working so far. She’d caught Will off guard. He seemed a little unsure of his footing and what was going to happen next.

  If he’d forgotten that shy twelve-year-old whose heart he’d broken, well, she’d be happy to remind him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LAMAR HAD NO interest in a horseback ride. But when he’d tried to corner his father after they’d left the lodge, Big Jack had said they could talk on the ride and walked off.

  As several wranglers arrived by pickup to help get the horses ready for the ride, it became clear to Lamar that the guest ranch was operating short-staffed. Picking up one of the ranch’s brochures by the front door, he’d realized that the guest ranch didn’t even open for guests until May and certainly not this early in the spring. There was still deep snow in the high peaks behind the ranch. While today was pleasant, it wasn’t exactly warm. Why here? Why now? Why so last-minute?

  He had so many questions and no answers. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was up to something. Whatever it was, Lamar planned to find out—if he could get his father to talk to him.

  At least they wouldn’t be staying long. He told himself he could put up with this so-called retreat for four days. But he couldn’t help worrying. Something was going on with his father. He was used to the intrigue between the employees. It ebbed and flowed in waves, often due to his brother, Mick, flirting with certain members of the staff and then moving on to others.

  The company had a no-dating rule that also applied to his brother, not that Mick paid it any mind. After the way he’d seen his father looking at Ruby Alder, Lamar knew he’d have to remind his father that the rule applied to him, as well.

  Looking out his cabin window, he spotted his brother in deep conversation with Kirk Austin, the twenty-seven-year-old former semi-pro snowboarder. He had no doubt that they were arguing over Allison. He noticed that his brother was doing most of the talking.

  Just when he considered breaking up whatever was going on, he saw Dean Donovan standing in the nearby pines. As he watched Dean push his glasses back up his long nose, he realized that the stockroom worker was eavesdropping on Mick and Kirk’s conversation.

  With his boots on, he headed out of the cabin. Dean spotted him and pretended to be looking for something in the pines. Mick and Kirk separated at the sight of Lamar, but neither looked happy.

  Shaking his head, Lamar headed down to the barn, the others following at an uninterested saunter. Horses whinnied from the corral as the wranglers saddled up mounts and helped the guests into the saddles. There was both tension and excitement in the air as he climbed onto his horse. He’d ridden some with friends when he was younger, but he was far from comfortable in the saddle.

  Will swung up onto his horse, clearly at home there. He took the lead with one of the wranglers as they began to walk their horses toward a path that led past the cabins and along a trail beside the creek.

  Lamar tried to relax, but he saw that his father had purposely ridden up beside Will at the front of the line and was now way ahead of him. So much for talking on the horseback ride.

  As the line began to string out, with some of the riders going much slower than others on the narrow trail, he was even farther from his father and that discussion Big Jack had promised. He swore under his breath and tried to enjoy the country. It really was beautiful—just as his father had always told them. He breathed in the sweet scent of the pines. Closer, the creek ran clear over colorful rocks. From a tree limb, a squirrel chattered above him as he passed.

  His calm was broken as, ahead, he overheard raised voices. Kirk and Mick were arguing about something again. He caught just enough of the heated discussion to guess it was about Allison. He was going to have to talk to his brother about this. Again.

  Kirk reined in and rode back a few horses to get away from Mick. Lamar shook his head. Never a dull moment with these two.

  The wrangler at the rear of the group was urging Dean to go a little faster when, in front of Lamar, Lexi suddenly brought her horse up short.

  * * *

  BACK AT THE RANCH, Dorothea was glad to see that all of the guests had left on the trail ride. Earlier, she’d been watching them surreptitiously as she’d always done with the various groups that came to the ranch. She prided herself on being able to tell almost at once which ones were going to be trouble.

  With this group, she’d seen something that she was sure Will and the others had missed. The quiet, plain one, Lexi? She’d stolen a shaker of salt from one of the dining room tables as she’d left earlier. The young woman did it with such finesse that Dorothea would guess it hadn’t been her first brush with kleptomania. One moment Lexi was passing the table. The next moment the saltshaker from the dining table was tucked into her shoulder bag. The woman didn’t even break her stride.

  In the kitchen, Dorothea didn’t see Poppy anywhere around, but she found the boxed-up cookies ready to be taken to the cabins. She carefully packed them into a basket and headed out into the beautiful day.

  She made stops at each cabin, dropping off the boxes of cookies. When she reached Lexi Raiser’s cabin, she paused for a moment, unable to ignore the strange feeling that washed over her.

  From the get-go, she’d sensed that something was wrong with this group. She’d known it the moment they climbed out of the van. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly. At least, not yet.

  She took just a moment in the young woman’s cabin. Some guests came in, dumped the contents of their suitcases on the spare bed in the second bedroom. Others neatly hung their clothes on the provided hangers in the closet or folded them just as neatly in the large antique bureau drawers. And then there were those who left everything in their suitcases on the luggage rack and never unpacked, as if they weren’t planning to stay long.

  Lexi, it appeared, was one of those. Her room was so neat it looked as if the room wasn’t even being used.

  Dorothea put the cookies on the small table and turned to leave, wondering what Lexi had done with the saltshaker, when she glanced toward the door and saw what she’d missed on the way in.

  Salt. It gleamed in the dull light. A thin trail of it had been spread along the edge of the floor and threshold.

  Dorothea hugged herself as a chill shuddered through her. She recognized the spell. It was one to keep negative energy away—and one her mother had taught her. But who was it that Lexi believed she had to fear? Channing Palmer? Or someone else at this retreat?

  * * *

  WILL HAD BEEN reminiscing with Big Jack about the days when he and his father were regulars at the ranch when he heard the commotion followed by the screams and brought his horse up short.

  Reining his horse around, he rode back on the wide trail to see what was going on. The first thing he saw as he
came around the bend was Lexi clinging to her horse as it bucked and jumped. She was hanging on as if her life depended on it.

  His wrangler was trying to get hold of Lexi’s horse’s reins.

  Will jumped off his horse and hurried toward them when suddenly Dean’s horse began to buck and jump, as well. Unlike Lexi, Dean wasn’t hanging on. He flew through the air, landing hard on the ground in the middle of the trail with a grunt and a whimper as his glasses flew off, but fortunately didn’t break.

  The other horses whinnied and stomped. Will got Lexi’s horse settled down and handed the reins to his wrangler, who had grabbed Dean’s horse’s reins. As he hurried over to where Dean lay crumpled on the ground moaning, he wondered what the devil was going on. All horses could get spooked for whatever reason and act up occasionally, but these were seasoned guest horses that were as docile as sleepy old dogs.

  * * *

  POPPY WAS PREPPING for dinner service when Dorothea came in the front door. She glanced toward the main lodge area around the fireplace and then turned into the dining room and headed toward the large open kitchen.

  But as she walked past one of the dining room tables, she stopped abruptly and picked up an empty saltshaker to stare at it for a long moment. The woman had always been peculiar, Poppy thought, but at the same time rather endearing. Kind of like an addled aunt.

  “If you bring that shaker into the kitchen, I’d be happy to refill it,” Poppy offered.

  Dorothea came out of whatever trance she’d been in. She entered the kitchen and handed the empty shaker to her. As she watched Poppy refill it, the older woman said, “I can see what you’re doing.”

  She finished filling the shaker and looked at Dorothea. “Filling the saltshaker?”

  The woman let out a grunt. “You took this job to settle a score with Will.”