She needed to be boxed up and shipped back to California. Pronto.
“Maybe if you did go tonight,” Aunt Joy started, “you could get Lily a little buzzed, and she’d tell you what happened between her and the bears.”
“That would be sneaky and dishonest, Aunt Joy,” he said, but the notion did have him wondering if Lily relaxed enough, would she spill her secrets? Would he spill his?
No way. He shook his head as he chewed his lasagna. He would not unload his tale of woe on Lily. She didn’t need to know what he’d been through. It wasn’t any of her business. She could be afraid of the woods. He could be afraid of the city. There’d be balance in the world.
Hope came into the kitchen and sniffed the air like a wolf. “Lasagna? I want some.”
“C’mon over,” Aunt Joy said. “I’ve set a place for you. Where’s Sage?”
“She’ll be around in a minute.” Hope walked to the table, and Rick noted the sprucing up she’d done. Her blonde hair was brushed to shining and hanging straight down her back, angled bangs framing her face. She wore dark jeans and a black, corduroy blazer with a silver camisole underneath. Large, silver hoops gripped her earlobes, and a trio of silver bangles jingled on her wrist.
This was “stepping out for the night” Hope. The only hint left of his casual, pastry-baking, website-building cousin was the lime green socks she had on. Rick knew she’d slide boots on over those crazy socks, but he couldn’t help smiling at that little bit of child-like fun she managed to hang onto when clearly she planned to “hunt” men tonight.
When Sage joined them, the predator image screamed loud and clear. Like Hope, Sage’s hair had been straightened and fell like a blonde curtain about her face. Though there was a year between the sisters with Sage being the older, they looked like twins. They had the same triangular face with small noses and full lips. The big difference was in the eyes. Hope had deep brown eyes that showed how compassionate she was. Sage, on the other hand, had bright green eyes, like green fire, that suggested something electric about her.
Sage wore army green cargo pants that rode low on the waist. A black T-shirt hid beneath a short, denim jacket. A long string of pearls looped and knotted around her neck adding a touch of female to the otherwise military ensemble.
“Don’t you girls look nice?” Aunt Joy got up to pour her daughters’ drinks.
“Well, we don’t get out much, Mom,” Hope said.
“So when we do, we gotta make it count,” Sage finished. “Besides, with Lily along we’re sure to attract a crowd. The guys will be all interested in the new meat, but they’ll stay to sniff around us.” Sage gestured between her and her sister.
Rick tightened his grip on his fork. New meat. As in every guy in the tavern would be checking Lily out, flirting with her, trying to get their cow-manured paws on her.
Suddenly the lasagna didn’t taste that great.
“I hope the guys are playing tonight,” Hope said. She meant the local band, Shadow Hills, which called Black Wolf Tavern home most nights. Two of the five-piece band had gone to high school with Rick and if he were to be forced to call anyone in the vicinity friends, they’d be the ones. He’d had a few beers with them in the past, played a little guitar with them when they were practicing. For laughs. Nothing serious.
He’d been able to play the guitar since he first picked one up at the age of thirteen. No lessons. No reading music. Just strumming the strings in a way that sounded right to him. His middle school and high school music teachers had been amazed at the rare talent, encouraging Rick to pursue a career in music, but he hadn’t had an interest in it more than fooling around. Performing was so… public.
“You want the guys to be there so you can get an eyeful of the drummer,” Sage teased her sister.
Hope’s cheeks shot to pink. “That is so untrue.”
“That is fact, Hope. Don’t deny it.” Sage took a swig of her drink. “The way you ogle Sam Pearsson is embarrassing.”
Hope looked down at her lasagna and shrugged. “I’m still thinking about how I feel about him.”
Did she really have a thing for the drummer? Rick didn’t know him, but the thought Hope might like him had Rick wanting to run an FBI check on the guy. Though his cousins annoyed the shit out of him most of the time, they were like sisters to him. He wouldn’t want either of them to get involved with the wrong guy.
Maybe I need to go tonight. To protect Hope and Sage. Lord knew by the way they were dressed they’d cause a commotion at the tavern. They’d turn heads, and those same heads would be checking Lily out too.
Rick pushed his plate aside, all sense of appetite abandoning him.
“What’s the matter, sugar?” Aunt Joy asked. “Something wrong with my cooking tonight?”
He shook his head and stood. He was getting better at steadying himself on the air cast and didn’t have to wait so long before taking a step. “Full is all.” He finished his cranberry juice and took his dish and glass to the sink. After scraping the remains of his dinner into the garbage, he settled the dish in the water Aunt Joy already had for washing and searched for the washcloth under the suds. Again a vision of Lily’s body glistening with bubbles flashed in his mind and his man parts tightened.
“Leave those be, Rick,” Aunt Joy said. “I’ll get at them later.”
“Yeah, Rick,” Sage said. “Shouldn’t you be running on home to get changed for your big night out amongst the living?”
“He hasn’t decided if he’s going yet,” Aunt Joy said.
Rick turned around from the sink in time to see the smirk on his aunt’s face. As if she didn’t believe for one moment he wasn’t going to go to the tavern. That twisted his boxers.
“I said probably not.” He studied the mud stains on his exposed sock. God, he missed being able to wear two work boots. “I should stay off this for tonight. I’ve done too much walking today.”
“You weren’t walking when you had Lily in your lap,” Sage noted.
Hope let out a quiet giggle then bit her lip to stop herself. Aunt Joy appeared to be suppressing a laugh too. He didn’t need this crap.
“Thanks for the lasagna.” He shuffled to his aunt, dropped a kiss on her cheek, and arrowed glares at Hope and Sage. “Stay out of trouble tonight.”
“Who us?” Sage said.
“We don’t get into trouble.” Hope batted her eyes innocently.
“But we can’t be responsible for what Lily will do. She told us about some of the galas her company has. Sounds as if she knows how to party,” Sage said.
Hope held out a hand to Sage and they high-fived over the table. “We’re finally going to have some fun.” She clapped her own hands together in excitement.
“The question is,” Sage began, “will Rick choose to have some fun?”
“He deserves to,” Hope said.
He was getting irritated at the way they talked as if he weren’t still standing there.
“Rick knows what’s best for him,” Aunt Joy said. “Leave him be.” She stood and patted Rick’s cheek. “Use your head, sugar.”
“Always do.” He kissed his aunt again and left through the front door. “What else would I use?” he asked as he climbed into his truck.
His head was always in charge. Always keeping him focused and calm. Healthy.
No, he couldn’t get mixed up in complicated things, and Lily Hinsdale was guaranteed to be a complicated thing.
As he drove to his place, he purposely didn’t look at the driveway leading to Gail’s property. He tried to persuade himself that Hope and Sage knew how to take care of themselves in a bar full of testosterone.
He tried to convince himself he didn’t want to see Lily tonight.
Chapter Eleven
Lily climbed out of Sage’s car and immediately her boots sank into mud. The wet squelch of it made her long for the dry sidewalks of La Jolla. She’d taken the pretty patterns of red brick, pebbled concrete, and gray pavers for granted. A stroll past the bubbling
fountains or the geranium pots hanging from the lampposts along the streets of her hometown would be a welcome activity right now.
She looked down at her soiled boots—her favorite black leather ones with the lace up backs that, lucky for her, had come in a flat heel. She’d probably never completely rid those boots of Vermont residue. Sigh.
Sage hooked her hand around Lily’s elbow and steered her toward the wide wooden door of Black Wolf Tavern. Not much more than a rectangular barn painted hunter green and adorned with a carved sign announcing its name, the bar boasted a full parking lot. Lily wished her California friends could see her. They’d laugh their surgically-maintained asses off.
“I love this jacket, Lily.” Hope fell into step on Lily’s other side.
“Thanks.” She had slipped her short, black leather coat over the sweater and scarf combo, transforming the look into something close to biker chick. Was it the right look? How would she know? She had no idea what to expect behind the doors of Black Wolf Tavern.
“I love the hair on both of you,” Lily said. “I could never get mine that straight.”
“Wouldn’t bother going straight on you,” Sage said. “Rick likes curly hair.”
She was about to protest that it didn’t matter to her what Rick liked, but as soon as Sage opened the door, music spilled out. Half country, half rock. An interesting sound. Hope let out a squeal then slapped her hand over her mouth.
“Told you!” Sage reached around Lily to grab onto Hope’s arm. “You so want the drummer!”
“Okay, shut up.” Hope grinned. “Sam is someone my age and he’s so sexy beating those drums.”
“Play your cards right, and maybe he’ll beat your drums.” Sage wiggled her eyebrows, and Lily laughed along with them as she scanned the inside of the bar. Wood-paneled walls lined the interior. A giant moose head hung on the far wall. Opposite that, a bar topped with a chunky half-log was lined with black stools. Behind the bar was a huge mirror with the silhouette of a wolf howling at the moon painted on it. A grisly sort of looking fellow also populated the area behind the bar and Lily figured he was the owner, Jake. Pool tables and dart boards were in the back corner. A spattering of booths and tables and a small stage where the band was set up finished off Black Wolf Tavern.
A place like this wouldn’t stand a chance in La Jolla.
“Did Rick say if he was going to stop in?” Lily hoped she didn’t sound too interested. When the girls had arrived at her grandmother’s place sans Rick, her enthusiasm fizzled a bit.
“Funny how the phrase ‘maybe he’ll beat your drums’ has Lily asking about Rick, isn’t it, Hope?” Sage said over her shoulder as she led the way into the bar.
“Very funny,” Hope agreed.
“I didn’t mean… I just…” Lily sputtered.
“Right.” Sage patted Lily’s arm.
“Sure.” Hope lifted to her toes and squeezed Lily around the shoulders.
Lily grumbled to herself as she followed Sage. Several hellos emerged from the crowd as the three of them weaved toward the bar. She felt eyes on her from every corner of the tavern.
The locals smell an outsider. Maybe animals weren’t the only predators in these Vermont woods.
“First drinks are on me,” Sage said. “What’ll you have, Lily?”
“A soda to start.” She rolled her shoulders and tried to relax. There is nothing to be afraid of. There is nothing to be afraid of. “I need to be sober to spark up some conversation with these people. I’m working, remember?” Yes, work. That was why she was here. The only reason she was here.
“Okay.” Sage checked her watch. “You get thirty minutes to work.” Her smile widened. “Then we play.”
“Fair enough.” Lily could compromise. Truthfully, she missed partying. This definitely wasn’t going to be Hollywood-caliber merry-making, but it was something. She could have a good time and it was certainly better than spending the night in her grandmother’s house wondering what bloodthirsty creatures stalked her from the woods.
Sage flagged down Jake and ordered wine for Hope, a beer for her, and Lily’s soda. The three of them settled at a table in the middle of the bar where they had a good view of the band, and the drummer had a good view of Hope. Lily had spied the drummer, a well-muscled dude with shoulder length brown hair reminiscent of the 1980s, giving Hope the eye. A casual “Hey, there” mixed with a panicked “Oh, my God, you’re here” glance. Cute, very cute.
Lily looked around, trying to target someone she should talk to. Her general strategy was to chit-chat, get a sense of the type of people who called Vermont home. She didn’t want to ask them directly about a Utopia Resort in their backyards. If their reactions were anything like Rick’s, she’d only create an uproar.
And where was Rick? He’d said he’d come, and now he’d backed out. Guess that deer-in-headlights look wasn’t just a look. She’d driven right over him with her invitation. She shrugged. No big deal. The less she saw Rick, the better.
You’re working. If she kept saying it, she could focus.
As Sage and Hope chatted with some friends of theirs, Lily sipped her soda and engaged in some people watching. An older couple sitting in a corner booth caught her attention. They looked as if they were permanent fixtures in the bar in their matching denim jackets. Comfortable regulars.
After Hope and Sage’s friends left, Lily said, “Those two over there?” She pointed to the couple bent over beers and pretzels. “Would they be good to talk to?”
Hope craned her head to see between the other patrons. “Harry and Marsha Frideway?” She let out a little chuckle. “Yes, they’d be great to talk to.”
“You’ll need a signal though,” Sage said as Hope nodded.
“A signal? For what?” Lily slid off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair as Hope and Sage had already done. She dug her phone out of her purse.
“Once you sit with them, they will talk until the sun rises,” Hope said.
“And sets, then rises again,” Sage added. “Roll up the sleeves of your sweater when you want one of us to rescue you.”
“Okay.” Lily stood and maneuvered through the crowd. She was a full head taller than most of the patrons and had the urge to sit as soon as possible. Now that she thought about it some, why hadn’t Hope and Sage remarked about her height? Surely, they had noticed when walking on either side of her. Maybe they were just being nice. That was a change. Most new people immediately reacted to her six-foot elevation above sea level. Lily decided she liked Hope and Sage a little more for keeping their comments to themselves.
As she approached the booth, Marsha looked up. The woman offered Lily a cherry of a smile and said, “You’re new.”
“I am. Would you mind if I asked you a couple questions about the area. I’m interested in Vermont.” White lie, but for a good cause.
“Sure,” Harry said. “Take a load off.” He slid over making room for Lily on his side of the booth.
“Thank you. I’m Lily.”
“Harry, and this is my beautiful wife, Marsha.” Harry beamed sunshine as he looked Marsha’s way. Lily’s heart warmed at the affection apparent on his face.
“What do you want to know, sweetheart?” Marsha offered the basket of pretzels to Lily.
Lily popped one pretzel into her mouth to be polite, but soon regretted it because she was instantly thirsty. She yearned for her soda on the table so far away and decided to make this conversation as quick as possible.
“How long have you lived in Vermont?” she asked.
“All our lives,” Harry said. “Ain’t no better place to be.”
“Have you traveled to other places?” Or were all Vermonters hermits like Rick?
“Of course,” Marsha said. “We’ve been all over. Harry was in the army so we’ve been overseas. We’ve been places on vacation too. Hawaii, Bermuda, Alaska, the Caribbean, the Mediterranean.”
“We love ourselves a cruise,” Harry said. “Buffets around the clock. Living like t
he damn President for a week or two. It’s fun feeling that important.”
“But we always love coming home to Vermont the best.” Marsha patted Harry’s wrinkled hand on the table. He flipped his hand over and held Marsha’s.
“You have family here as well?” Lily couldn’t take her eyes off the couple’s joined hands. How long had it been since she’d just held someone’s hand?
Eons.
Harry ran his thumb over the thin skin on the back of Marsha’s hand. “Four sons,” he said proudly. “All military men as well. Two of them are out defending us right now. God bless them.”
“The other two are at desks due to injury,” Marsha said quietly.
“They’re heroes, our boys. Every one of them. They always come back to Vermont too.” Harry squeezed Marsha’s hand before releasing it.
“So would you consider Vermont a good place to raise a family?” Lily shook her head as an image of Rick, Poe, and a blond-haired child playing in a grassy field snuck into her head.
Where did that come from? Lily traced the edge of her phone and focused on Marsha and Harry.
“It’s the perfect place for that,” Marsha said. “The boys got plenty of fresh air and exercise on our farm.”
“Learned discipline too,” Harry added. “We had those boys doing chores soon as they were able. No free rides here. Everybody contributes to running a family, running a life.”
“They had wonderful experiences in school because their classes were small and there’s a real sense of community around these parts. Neighbors help neighbors,” Marsha said.
“Not like in the city,” Harry said. “Neighbors are more likely to steal from you or kill you.”
“Harold.” Marsha’s brows lowered.
“What? It’s true.” Harry pointed a finger at his wife, and she swatted it away, a grin on her face. He then faced Lily. “What I like most about Vermont is that it’s on its own schedule. People ain’t in a rush. They do what they can in a day’s time and don’t worry about getting ahead of everybody else. You can just live in Vermont. No stress, no worries. Can’t say that about many places these days.”
More Than Pancakes (The Maple Leaf Series Book 1) Page 13