Driftwood Creek

by Roxanne Snopek

  Blake cried out and cringed behind Gideon’s leg.

  “Hey, buddy,” he told the boy. “It’s okay. They’re friendly.”

  He tried to peel the kid off him, but Blake wasn’t having it. The boy whimpered and clung to him, his eyes squeezed shut.

  “Are they going to bite me?” Blake asked.

  “Bite you?” Gideon managed to get Blake in front of him, and then lifted him so he could see the dogs from higher up, where he might feel less intimidated. “Nah. They love kids. You want to meet them?”

  “Uh-uh.” Blake shook his head, eyeing Chaos, who was yapping like he’d never seen a kid before.

  Which he probably hadn’t.

  Footsteps sounded, and to Gideon’s immense relief, Jamie appeared around the corner. She stopped in her tracks when she saw them, a wary expression coming over her face. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Jamie’s face softened.

  Gideon set Blake back on his feet.

  “Hey, kiddo.” She strode toward them, scooped Chaos into her arms, and slipped through the gate. She wiped one hand on her jeans and then stuck it out toward Blake. “I’m Jamie. What’s your name?”

  Blake let her shake his hand, watching the pup closely. “Blake.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Blake. This little guy’s name is Chaos. You want to pet him?”

  He shook his head again.

  “Gotcha. He’s a little wild.” She put Chaos back into the fenced area and let the poodle out instead. “Much better to start with this one. Her name is Honey. She’s a poodle. Do you know what’s great about poodles?”

  Blake shook his head, whether in answer to her question or as a general response to the situation, Gideon wasn’t sure.

  Blake was quivering and clinging to him again. The dog walked up to them calmly, sniffed, then circled around to stand at Jamie’s left side. It was impressive. Had Haylee been training the dog? Or had Jamie achieved this?

  “They can do tricks,” Jamie said. “Watch this. Honey, sit.”

  The dog folded her back legs and sat.

  “High-five.”

  Honey lifted a paw and tapped Jamie’s outstretched palm.

  “Good girl!”

  Blake giggled. “She high-fived you.”

  Gideon could have kissed her. The boy stuck close, but he’d stopped shaking. This was exactly what he needed. Something to break the ice.

  “She’s super smart,” Jamie said. “Here’s another one.”

  She took a treat, told Honey to stay, then carefully set it onto her nose. The dog held position, waiting, waiting.

  “Okay, eat it.”

  In an instant, the treat was gone, flipped and snatched out of the air before it hit the ground.

  “Whoa!” Blake said.

  “You like that?” Jamie asked.

  The boy nodded.

  “You want to see another one?”

  He nodded again.

  “I need help for this one, though.” Jamie looked solemnly at him, ignoring Gideon entirely. “Would you like to help me? You’d have to come inside the fence. Can you do that?”

  Gideon felt Blake tense up again. “I don’t know, Jamie,” he said.

  “Will the other doggies bite me?” Blake asked.

  Jamie gave a snort of laughter. “These guys? No way. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  Chaos had lost interest and was digging at the corner of the fence, so Gideon walked through the gate with Blake, a little envious at how easily she’d earned the boy’s cooperation. At Jewel’s approach, Blake shuddered and pulled away, but the big dog had had years of experience with kids and knew to lie down on the grass and wait for him to come to her.

  She might be waiting for a while, he thought.

  “You know how to make a gun with your fingers, right? Like this?” Jamie held her thumb and forefinger out like a pistol.

  Blake made a tiny gun with his right hand.

  “Perfect!” Jamie crowed. “I love it. Now. Point your gun at Honey and say, ‘Bang!’”

  Blake blinked, then looked at the dog. He lifted his hand and pointed his index finger at the dog. “Bang,” he said in his little voice.

  Behind Blake’s back, Jamie mirrored the boy’s hand gesture. Honey sank to the ground, then flopped over on her side.

  Blake laughed in delight. Honey immediately leaped to her feet and came over for her treat.

  Blake huddled away from her, grasping at Gideon’s hand again.

  “You made her do the trick,” Jamie said, “so you get to give her the reward. Here.”

  She pressed a piece of jerky into his little hand, then held it out to Honey, allowing the dog to take it from them both.

  “See? She didn’t bite you.”

  “She licked me,” Blake said. “She’s got a soft tongue.”

  “That’s our Honey.” Jamie looked at Gideon, then back at Blake. “You want to try a trick with Jewel?”

  Blake shook his head and buried his face against Gideon’s leg, shy now. He let his hand hover over his son’s head, then gently stroked his hair, golden like Lana’s, with a cowlick at the front.

  He could feel Jamie’s eyes on him, and he looked over at her. But she was looking at Blake, an expression of wonder on her face.

  “Right there,” she said on a breath. “The way he turned his head. He looked just like you.”

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth, blinked hard a few times, then shook herself. “Okay, I gotta get back to work. See you boys later.”

  “Jamie?” he called, suddenly desperate for her to stay.

  She paused on her way to the kennel and looked over her shoulder. A ray of sun shone across her face and spilled over her body, and it was as if a light turned on inside him, illuminating the lie he’d been telling himself.

  She was beautiful. Inside and out.

  And he loved her.

  “Yeah?”

  He swallowed and stroked Blake’s hair again. “Thanks,” he managed to say around the lump in his throat. “For everything.”

  Her face softened again and the shine returned to her eyes. “Anytime, Gideon.”

  Then, surrounded by the dogs, she disappeared.

  * * *

  An hour or two later, Jamie left the kennel and went to check in on Gideon and Blake.

  Watching him meet his son for the first time had been painful. He had obviously been nervous, smiling too hard, his face brittle, his movements uncertain and jerky, like someone using ice skates for the first time.

  Seeing such a strong man brought to his knees by a small boy made her chest ache. He didn’t let himself love easily, as she knew all too well. Seeing a piece of himself standing there in little red sneakers, frightened and confused, must have torn him up inside.

  She found them in the stables.

  “Hey, guys,” she said. “How’s it going?”

  “Great.”

  “Geez, that bad, huh?”

  He shot her a filthy look.

  She turned to Blake. “You having fun meeting the horses?”

  “I guess,” said the boy.

  Then she noticed he was moving restlessly from foot to foot.

  “Uh, Gideon,” she said from the side of her mouth. “I think we’ve got a bladder situation here.”

  His eyes widened. “Blake? Do you need to go to the washroom?”

  Blake nodded quickly.

  Gideon looked at Jamie. “Thank you again.”

  “No skin off my nose.” She focused on Blake. “Do you need help?”

  Blake shook his head from side to side.

  “Come on.” She motioned for Gideon and the boy to follow her. “The kennel bathrooms are closest. You staying for supper, kiddo?”

  Blake nodded.

  “Good,” she said. “We’ll sit together. Would that be okay?”

  He nodded again, then darted toward the open door.

  “All right. I’ll see you then. Have fun with your dad.”

  Blake sto
pped in his tracks, and whirled around, his urgent business forgotten. “My dad’s here?”

  Jamie heard Gideon’s inhalation like a slice through the air.

  “She means me, Blake,” he said gently.

  “Oh.” The boy’s face fell. He closed the bathroom door.

  Gideon sagged against the wall. “James, what the hell am I doing? Why did I think this would be a good idea?”

  She turned on him, her voice low and harsh. “You’re doing the right thing, and you’re going to keep on doing the right thing. If you chicken out now, I swear, Gideon, I’ll break you. Of course the kid’s confused. That’s natural. He doesn’t know you, you don’t know him. But it’ll come. As long as you keep trying.”

  Gideon nodded. “Sure. I know.”

  She heard the whoosh of the toilet flushing, and the tap running, then the door opened.

  Jamie squatted down to be at his level. “I want to tell you something, bud. You are one lucky dude, did you know that?”

  Blake blinked at her. “No.”

  “You are. I didn’t have one single dad when I was your age. And you’ve got two. Two whole dads! That’s pretty darn lucky, the way I see it.”

  The boy frowned and looked hesitantly at Gideon.

  Jamie snapped her fingers. “Eyes here, short stuff. I mean it. You’ve got the dad you and your mom live with, what’s-his-name, Elliot, right?”

  Her top lip wanted to curl up when she said the name, but she forced it to remain in place. The turd deserved a pounding for presuming he had the right to judge Gideon and the ranch, and she’d be happy to provide it, but right now, right here, they had to play nice.

  Blake nodded.

  “And he’s a great guy, right?” She deserved one of the awards sitting on Roman’s mantel, for this performance.

  Another quick nod.

  “And, now you’ve got Gideon, who’s the dad who helped make you. You don’t know him yet so it’s weird.” She made a face and Blake smiled. “But trust me. He’s a great guy, too. You’ll see.” Then she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Gideon adopted a hurt expression and opened his hands, palm out. “Hey, can’t I hear it too?”

  “No. It’s just for Blake.”

  Blake brightened and moved closer. “What is it?”

  She cupped her hand next to his ear. “He’s scared of you,” she whispered.

  “Who is?” Blake whispered back.

  She grinned. “Gideon.”

  Blake’s mouth formed an O. “He is? Why?”

  She shrugged. “Why are you scared?”

  “’Cause I never met him before.”

  “Probably the same with him.”

  “But he’s a grown-up.”

  “You think grown-ups don’t get scared? Buddy, I’ve got news for you. Big people get scared just like little people do.”

  “Really?” Blake’s eyes were saucer wide.

  “Really-really. But don’t tell him, okay?”

  Blake giggled. “Okay.”

  His breath was warm and smelled faintly sweet, like oranges.

  She stood up.

  “If you two are finished with all your whispering and giggling,” Gideon said, “maybe we can visit the horses now?”

  Blake tugged on Jamie’s arm. “I’m scared of horses.”

  Gideon opened his mouth, but she held up one finger before he could speak. “How about,” she said, lowering her voice with a conspiratorial air, “some baby kittens?”

  “Kittens?” Blake said.

  Jamie nodded. “Gideon found them a few weeks ago and rescued them. They were very sick. But they’re fat and healthy now.”

  She was aware of Gideon watching her as she spoke. Could feel the energy changing, the tension abating between him and his son and, in its place, something else arising, the gentle hum of electricity arcing to her instead.

  “Actually,” Gideon said, his voice soft, “Jamie rescued them.”

  Blake looked back and forth between the two of them, his head tilting. “Is Gideon your boyfriend?”

  Jamie jumped. The innocent assumption sent her heart racing even as the thought of Gideon’s reaction scared the crap out of her. “Oh, no. We’re just friends. We should find those kittens. Or, Gideon, you know where they are, right?”

  He nodded. But his smile had faded, replaced by a quizzical expression, as if something familiar had become suddenly unrecognizable. Or vice versa.

  “I’ll see you later, Jamie,” he said. Was there a slight upturn at the end of the phrase? Did he want to see her later? Or was it her imagination?

  No, she decided. He was busy with Blake. They’d tabled anything that may have been between them.

  But still, she couldn’t help but hope.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Don’t let the Venus–Saturn opposition cause a rift

  between you and someone you love.

  —Gideon’s horoscope

  Blake hopped into Lana’s black Audi without a backward glance. Lana buckled him in, then walked stiffly up to Gideon.

  She glanced at Jamie and cleared her throat.

  “We had a fun time.” Jamie bared her teeth in a grin, as if she was determined to make Lana smile. “He’s a great kid.”

  “You didn’t mention you were in a relationship,” Lana said to Gideon, cutting her eyes at Jamie.

  “Oh, he’s not,” Jamie put in quickly. “Don’t worry about that at all. We’re just friends. You know. Good friends.”

  Another bright, wide-eyed smile.

  Gideon didn’t know what to say. His feelings for Jamie had changed, yes, but with Lana looking at Jamie like she had the mark of the beast tattooed on her forehead, he could hardly act on it.

  “If you say so,” Lana said. She quizzed Gideon then about what they’d done, what he’d eaten, if he’d been hurt or frightened.

  “He had fun, Lana,” Gideon told her, suddenly exhausted. “He played with baby kittens and a poodle. We climbed a stack of hay bales, went for a tractor ride, ate meatloaf and mashed potatoes. We had a great time.”

  Lana narrowed her eyes as if unsure of whether or not to believe him. They confirmed the date for Blake’s next visit, and she left.

  As they watched the dust from behind her tires plume into the evening air, Jamie slipped her hand into his and squeezed lightly.

  “You did good, Dad.”

  He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “That may be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. You really think he had fun?”

  She tipped her head sideways. “He was nervous, too. I think he’s been pretty sheltered. But that means this is good for him. You’re doing the right thing, Gideon.”

  He nodded.

  She reached up, placed a soft kiss on his cheek, and then turned to go.

  “Wait.”

  She looked up at him in surprise, and he felt as if he was on a steep precipice, about to take a step into thin air. He didn’t deserve her and she certainly deserved better.

  The least he could do was give her the truth.

  “You want a cup of coffee?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Gideon Low. Are you asking me back to your cabin?”

  Her gentle teasing eased the roughness inside him, put them back onto familiar footing.

  “Yes or no, Vaughn. I might rescind the offer at any moment.”

  “Well then,” she said, linking her arm through his. “How could I refuse.”

  The last of the sunlight was filtering through the trees as they walked across the yard to the staff cabins, painting the path gold and red and orange. Birds settled above them, calling softly as they prepared to rest. Something sweet scented the air, lavender from Daphne’s herb garden, maybe.

  It felt completely natural for them to be walking together like this.

  Inside the cabin, he spent several minutes moving dishes from place to place, heating water and grinding beans. Now that she was here, he wanted to call back
the offer. He wanted to sit with her and hold her hand and touch her hair and put his cheek against hers.

  He wanted much more than that, truth be told.

  “Gideon,” Jamie said, patting the couch seat beside her. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Just spit it out. I won’t think worse of you.”

  He shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I told you I was in prison.”

  “Yup. It was a really short story. Is there more?”

  So much more. “It’s ugly, Jamie. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to forget it.”

  “And how’s that worked for you?” Her voice was sharp now, the sympathy wiped out by alarm. “You’ve got peace like a river in your soul? Love like an ocean? No. You’re sick inside. It’s poison. I promise, it’ll help to talk about it.”

  “I doubt that.” He pressed his hands against his skull as if he could physically make the words start flowing in the right order.

  Where, exactly, was the beginning, he wondered?

  “I used to gamble,” he said abruptly.

  It wasn’t the beginning, but it would do.

  The second of two sons born to a thick-knuckled, bad-tempered tree-pruner of Malaysian descent and a stoic British seamstress, Gideon Low had learned early to watch for the subtle warning signs of trouble. The twitch of a throat muscle, the lines around the mouth that tightened almost imperceptibly, the slight increase in respiration or blinking. Picking at a cuticle, biting a nail. Simple stillness could tell an epic story, if one was listening.

  And Gideon had listened.

  His brother, Josiah, had not. He’d inherited the simmering anger of their father but without the control of their mother, and seemed to take pleasure in running afoul of the older man’s temper. Gideon had learned a great deal from watching their battles, even when they were fought in chilly silence. He’d seen the toll they’d taken on their mother, how she had been tortured between the love she had for her husband and that she had for her son and how she had been continually forced to choose sides in a war with no winners.

  “I learned to stay quiet,” he said.

  Jamie reached over to squeeze his hand. “I like you better when you’re talking. Go on.”