She affected a wounded look.
“I didn’t mean to exclude you,” he said. “You’re a temporary woman. I know that.”
“Sorry, but I plan to keep this gender permanently.”
The smile stayed in place as he opened the door. “I’ve got no objection to that.”
Did he even think of her as a woman? She glanced down at her worn jeans and baggy sweater. Did she even think of herself as one lately?
He went outside and Dorie considered making a trip into the little town of Mountain Spring. There must be a Goodwill store with nice used clothes or a pharmacy where she might buy a bit of makeup. What if Bret actually did recognize her feminine qualities beyond innocent flirting? And if he did suddenly notice her, what then? Would that change anything? No. Jack would still be in jail, and her problems in Winston Beach would still be waiting for her.
CHAPTER TEN
BRET’S TRUCK IDLED at the bottom of the mountain as he waited for the school bus to round the bend in the road. He laid his head against the backrest and let the cool breeze from the open window wash over his face. He’d accomplished a lot today on the property. Having Dorie inside the lodge taking care of details that normally fell on his shoulders had lightened his load considerably.
But just because he hadn’t seen much of Dorie after giving her a few instructions earlier, didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about her. While he added weather stripping to the cabin doors and windows, he’d remembered standing behind Dorie that morning and how her blond hair waved softly to her shoulders. He recalled her slender fingers, the nails blunt and painted with clear polish, gently tapping the keyboard as he went outside. He especially remembered how her eyes, intensely blue and alert, had focused on his as if she found everything he told her enormously interesting. And all he’d been talking about was camping gear and supplies for the lodge.
When he’d come outside and told Pop about Dorie staying, he’d experienced a flush of warmth throughout his body. But when Pop had commented again about Dorie being a good worker, Bret had merely said he believed she could help them get set up. He hadn’t let Pop know that she had other qualities that had been occupying his mind over the past three days.
Bret no longer viewed her as a damsel in distress, and even if he believed that she was down on her luck, he wasn’t the “knight in shining armor” type. Dorinda Howe was nobody’s charity case, and he wasn’t her savior. No, his attraction to Dorie was simple and elemental. He trusted her. She was kind to his son and even Clancy. She seemed to fit into the lifestyle he’d established on the mountain.
Since there was no point in denying the truth any longer, he readily admitted to himself that he was glad she was staying. But he’d do well to rein in whatever effect she was having on him. Her time at The Crooked Spruce was temporary. She would leave. And once again he would be the same man he was before she came. Alone with a son who needed him and a father who tested his patience. Normal would be normal again. But for the next fourteen days, what would be the harm in imagining the possibilities?
Bret’s eyes blinked open when he heard the school bus stop in front of his truck. He sat up and watched the doors open. He knew Luke would be the only kid who got out. Most of the other riders had been dropped off already. Luke’s was nearly the last stop. At the door, Luke turned and waved to someone still on the bus. Then he bounded down the two steps and ran to the truck.
“How was your day?” Bret asked him as he got inside.
“Good.”
“Did your teacher give you a quiz on that book you were supposed to read over the break?”
Luke smiled. “Nope. He gave us a couple more days to finish.”
“Lucky for you, eh?”
“I’m almost done.”
They started back up the hill. After a moment Bret asked who Luke had waved to when he was leaving the bus.
“Some kid in my class.”
“A friend?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
This seemed like a good opportunity to talk about Luke’s social skills, or ones that had lay dormant since they’d moved to the Blue Ridge.
“You know, Luke,” Bret began, “you can ask kids over to the camp whenever you want. After school or on Saturdays. I’d be glad to talk to their parents and pave the way. And I could take your friends home after if that would help.”
Luke stared out the front windshield. He didn’t respond for a while until finally he said, “I don’t know, Dad. Most of the kids in my school live in town and they already have friends that live close.”
“Doesn’t mean they wouldn’t like a new friend.” Luke didn’t speak so Bret pursued the subject. “Maybe some of the boys in your class would like visiting The Crooked Spruce. Lots of space to roam, cabins to explore.”
Luke frowned. “There’s nothing cool around here, Dad. No place to go for burgers or video games. No basketball net. Nothing. Guys like to do stuff, you know.”
“Like all the stuff you did in Atlanta?”
Luke shrugged.
Times had sure changed from when Bret was a ten-year-old. Back then he would have loved leaving his cramped apartment with Pop and Maisie to hike among the trees and encounter wildlife. Today’s kids wanted techie activities, sports arenas, fast-food joints. He’d probably been foolish to think that Luke would adapt naturally to this new environment after living in Miami. Or maybe he’d just hoped beyond what was practical.
“I could mount a basketball net on the shed,” he said. “Larry Bird learned to play with a simple hoop on the outside of his barn in Indiana.”
Luke stared at him. “Who?”
Bret sighed. “Never mind. I’ll put up the net. I promise.”
“Okay.” They approached the last curve before the lodge and Luke said, “Is Grandpa still here?” His voice was hopeful but uncertain. Not unusual when asking about Clancy.
“He is. He’s not going anywhere for quite some time.”
“Okay, good. I’ll probably miss Dorie, but maybe Grandpa and I can work on the puzzle if you’re busy.”
“I don’t think you’re going to miss...”
“That’s Dorie’s truck!” Luke hollered when they drove under the archway to the camp. “She’s still here!”
“Yes, she is. She’s decided to stay a couple of weeks to help us out.”
Luke had his door open before the truck had come to a full stop. “Why didn’t you say so, Dad?”
Yeah, why hadn’t he? Bret didn’t want to admit he was jealous, but there it was again—that pang in his chest at Luke’s reaction to someone else in his life. Both of them were glad Dorie was still here. Even Clancy was if he’d actually admit it. But Bret couldn’t allow himself to act like a ten-year-old and jump out of the truck and run into the lodge as if the moon would rise tonight because Dorie Howe had decided to extend her stay.
After taking his time, Bret entered the lodge, saw Luke’s backpack on the floor and the kid in the chair next to Dorie’s. Normally he would have made Luke pick up the pack and take it upstairs, but he didn’t think acting like a disciplinary jerk was the right move at this moment. Luke laughed out loud at something Dorie was pointing to on the computer monitor.
“What’s so funny?” Bret asked, hanging his jacket on the coatrack.
“You should see these sheets Dorie found,” Luke said. “They’ve got bugs all over them so it looks like you have bugs in your bed. Bed bugs, you know? What if one of those rich guys staying here pulled down his sheet and saw all those things? It would be hilarious.”
“Not so hilarious in my opinion,” Bret said. There was something about seeing Luke and Dorie together that made his chest squeeze almost as if he was having a heart attack. Dorie, with her fair hair and slender figure, was nothing like Miranda in appearance. Luke’s mom had been a voluptuous
Latin beauty, olive-skinned, with dark hair and eyes. More than one of the guys in Bret’s precinct had told him he was a lucky man.
Still, there was a chilling similarity in the scene. Miranda had made Luke laugh, too, in the same natural, effortless way over something basically silly.
“I think your dad’s right,” Dorie said. “Probably not a good idea to order these sheets. How about we look at other possibilities?” She scrolled down the page.
“Stop there,” Luke said. “Dogs. That would be great, wouldn’t it, Dad?”
“Do you like dogs?” Dorie asked him.
“Sure. I’ve always wanted one, but Dad says I have to be more responsible.” He said the word as if it were a curse and Bret cringed.
“A dog isn’t out of the question,” Bret said. “Especially now that we’re living in a place where it can run.”
Dorie smiled up at him. “So, what do you say, Dad? You want to look at the dog sheets?”
He ambled over to take a look. “I’m thinking we should stay with simple,” he said. “Pick a solid color and we’ll go with that.”
Even though he was pretty much being a stuffy old grump, Dorie let him off the hook. “That’s fine,” she said. “Luke, you can pick the color.”
Luke picked a dark green flannel and seemed content to have been included in the decision. And then the most amazing thing happened. Luke got up, retrieved his backpack and headed for the kitchen and the stairs to the second floor. “I’m going to do my homework so we can work on the puzzle later,” he said before disappearing from the room.
Was Luke remembering the rules because he wanted to impress Dorie? If so, that was a good thing, right? Nothing to be jealous of. Except...
He was glad when his cell phone rang and he could turn his attention to answering it. “My sister,” he said when Dorie looked at him. “I’ve got to take this.”
“Of course,” Dorie said. “I’ll show you these prices when you’re done talking.”
Bret pressed the connect button. “Julie?” He went into the kitchen to keep his conversation private.
“So, what’s going on, Brat?” his sister said.
“Nothing new,” he answered. “Pop and I got quite a bit done today.”
“I called to tell you that I talked to Mom.”
That wasn’t a big surprise. The two women kept in touch almost daily. Bret hardly ever called his mother, and she rarely called him. But they had Julie to keep them connected so it was all right.
“What did she have to say?” he asked.
“She had plenty to say when I told her Pop was staying with you. You’d have thought they were still married, the way she carried on.”
“What do you mean? She knows Pop shows up whenever we least expect him.”
“This was different,” Julie said. “Mom knows how important The Crooked Spruce is to you and she doesn’t want Pop interfering. Mom and I think alike on this subject. We both want you to find some peace after Miranda’s accident and the shooting last year. She’s smart enough to realize that you probably can’t if you have Pop to worry about.”
“Put her mind at ease, Jules. Pop and I are getting along okay. It’s working...for now.”
“That’s good, but something in Mom’s voice hinted that there was more on her mind. She asked a lot of questions about Pop.”
“They were married for a long time, Julie. Maybe she’s developing a soft spot for the old guy again.” Bret wasn’t much for gabbing on the phone, especially when work still waited for him outside. To cut the talk short, he said, “I’ve really got to run, Jules. Dorie’s waiting to show me some prices....” He stopped and pressed his lips together. He’d just opened a door he knew Julie wouldn’t let him close.
“Dorie’s still there?” Julie said. “I thought she was leaving this morning.”
“Yeah, well, she was supposed to, but she’s agreed to stay on a few days and give me a hand.”
“Oh, really?”
Bret recognized the “I know what’s really going on” tone his sister had perfected many years ago.
“How long is she staying?”
“A couple of weeks tops.”
“Ah, ha...” That tone again.
“Julie, don’t read anything into this. Dorie can use some extra money. I can use the help. That’s all there is to it.”
“Sure. I believe you.”
He could sense her sly smile over the phone.
“I think that’s great,” she said. “You men need a woman around that place...for lots of reasons. And I like her. She’s sensible and helpful. Easy to get along with. And she’s cute and single. She’s perfect for...”
“Jules...” He had to stop her now.
“I was going to say, perfect for The Crooked Spruce.”
He frowned. “I’ve got to go.”
Julie added one final jab. “And she’ll be a good influence on Luke.”
His sister’s interference had just reached maximum overload. “Don’t go there, Julie. Luke is fine. We’re fine.”
“I know you are. Luke adores you. And you’re a wonderful father. But I see the way he is around me. He tries to act like a little man, but there’s still some cuddle left in him. And, face it, Brat, as a cuddler, you’re less than ideal.”
“I can cuddle,” he argued, and then felt like a petulant child. “But I’m not going to have Dorie cuddle Luke. My son will adjust. Don’t get me wrong, his time with you is helpful, Jules. But he’s got to come back to this testosterone world and learn to live with it.”
“I understand that, but soft is good, too. And you don’t do soft well. And that’s okay. You’re still healing, dealing with your own loss.”
“Stop the psychobabble Julie. I’m healed. At least mentally.” Sure he was. Would he ever be? “And I’m doing better every day physically. I can raise my son. I don’t need a part-time mother to take on the job.”
“Whoa, Bret! Where did that come from? I never said she was trying to be Luke’s mother.”
He wished he could take back what he’d said, but it was out there. “No, you didn’t.”
“I’ve made you angry,” Julie said. “And I certainly didn’t mean to. I love you. I worry. That’s my job.”
The anger flowed out of him. “I love you, too, Julie. You know that.”
“I do. You tell Pop to behave himself. And you might warn him that I told Mom he was with you. Maybe you both should be alerted to a possible phone call from her.”
“Wonderful. I’ll tell Pop and see if the mention of her name gives him the same romantic tingle from twenty years ago.”
“You laugh, but Mom did seem relieved that he was okay.”
They disconnected, and Bret tucked his cell phone into his shirt pocket and went into the living room. He still had prices to look over. And he was probably going to be working on a puzzle later.
Had he done the right thing by asking Dorie to stay? Would Luke get attached to her? Would he? Life was full of risks, like opening an outfitter’s store. But he’d decided when he moved up here that he was going to avoid as many emotional pitfalls as he could.
And yet he’d invited a very big pitfall into his home. And now he was looking forward to sitting beside her and discussing the prices of sheet sets. As risks go, not a good sign.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DORIE HAD NEVER avoided hard work. She’d run her own company, kept her house reasonably in order, raised her younger brother and even attempted to get an education. By Friday morning, working steadily except for when she was spending time with Luke, she had arranged to have a phone installed and placed orders for all the supplies Bret would need to have his cabins ready. She’d equipped his kitchen with the extra utensils and cookware he would need. With Bret’s input, she had arranged paymen
t and shipment of dozens of items to stock his shelves—everything from prepackaged dehydrated meals to portable heaters and down-filled sleeping bags.
Now all she had to do was finish his website and wait until the shipments started arriving. She expected to have cartons stacked ceiling high by the first of the week. She would then display, store, price and itemize the complete inventory.
But this was Friday morning. Luke was in school and, unless she wanted to join the men and help with the outside projects, she had the entire day before her. An inspection of the kitchen convinced her that she could offer the most help by restocking Bret’s personal pantry. The men were out of many staples, so she told Bret she would go to the market in Mountain Spring and pick up what they’d need to get them through the next week. He gave her two hundred dollars and the liberty to buy whatever she wanted.
She rolled down the windows on her truck, tuned the radio to a country station and zipped along the two-lane highway to the center of Mountain Spring. The supermarket was busy with shoppers obviously planning for the weekend. On the way back to the truck with her full cart, she passed a local pet adoption group just setting up a pen in the parking lot. She stopped to pet a few of the dogs. One in particular caught her eye mostly because he seemed to pick her out of the onlookers.
The dog jumped at the fencing, trying to get her attention. She scratched his chest and a sloppy pink tongue poked out to lick her hand. She didn’t know what breed he was, but despite his dubious pedigree, she was taken in by his curly blond fur and floppy ears.
“You want to take this one home?”
The voice came from behind her, and Dorie turned to stare into the kind gray eyes of a volunteer wearing a T-shirt that said Find-a-Home Adoptions.
“I wish I could,” she said, knowing now was not the time to add to her responsibilities or expenses.
“He’s been neutered, and he had all his shots,” the woman told her. “And he has a microchip implanted to identify him in case he gets lost. Plus, you can see he has a really nice disposition.”
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