A Savage Ghost

by Donna K. Weaver

  “Really, can I come with you?” She handed him the last dish. “If you don’t mind company, that is.”

  “I’d love company.” Coop tried to sound pleased without overdoing it.

  “I’ll grab my stuff and let my mom know where I’m going. She’s got something for me to do before dinner.” Lia already had her phone in her hand, typing something into it as she headed to the kitchen door that led to the back stairs.

  “Hey,” Coop called, “you going to wear that apron?”

  Lia spun around, the same laughter in her eyes that had first caught his attention in Sacramento. “Yeah, probably not.” She untied it and hung it on a hook. “I’ll wash it later.”

  For most of the drive into Payne, they reminisced about the previous summer. Lia went quiet as they approached town, her hands toying with the straps of her purse.

  “Something bothering you?” he asked.

  “Well, yeah, actually.” She shifted in the seat a little more, bringing her knee up on the bench. “All that stuff about the ghost when we first got here, and now nothing.”

  “Is that a problem?” Coop tried to pay attention to what she was saying and not the closeness of her knee to his leg.

  “I guess not.” Lia stared off in the distance for a few seconds, seeming lost in thought. “It just kind of set up a … I don’t know.” She looked at him. “A different expectation for the place than what it’s turning out to be.”

  “You’re not disappointed, are you?” Coop had wondered about the specter’s silence, and been relieved about it at the same time. It didn’t bother him; he didn’t care if the haunt never showed up again. Because of the lack of ghostly activity, his mum hadn’t felt the need to give further warnings. Mrs. Savage acted a little cool toward his family, but the little kids already loved Coop’s mother.

  “I guess not.” Lia said.

  “I did tell you he doesn’t show up very often.” Coop sensed her looking up at him again. When he glanced down at her, something passed between them. He didn’t know what, but it set his heart pounding. Her cheeks flushed as though she’d experienced it too, and she sat up, her expression confused.

  Coop pulled his eyes back to the road, where they should have been anyway, and let out a soft, deep breath. What had that been? He darted a glance at Lia from the corner of his eye. It seemed like she had put up some kind of barrier between them. He might not be able to see it, but it was there. Why had she closed up?

  As they drove into town, Lia continued to look out the passenger window. Apart. At first it irritated him. She had asked to come along, after all. For the company, she’d said. Things had been going so well before.

  Coop hated playing games; he should just ask her straight out what was bothering her. He glanced over at her. What if he made it worse? Coward. He played it safe and kept his mouth shut, until he’d pulled into a parking place at the shopping center.

  “I doubt we have a lot of options here for the kind of stuff you’re looking for.” He pointed to the grocery store. “If they don’t have what you want, your best bet is over the border or one of the bigger towns south of here. Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’ll be over there.” He nodded toward the hardware store.

  “Thanks.” She opened her door.

  By the time he’d scrambled out, she’d shut her door. Coop watched as she pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder and headed toward the grocery store. He glanced over at the hardware store and then back at Lia.

  An image of the last time he had seen her in Sacramento flashed through his mind. It’d been at what had turned out to be the last barbeque of the summer, following a rafting trip down the American River. Lia had sat to eat between him and Ezra, her hair much as it had been earlier, pulled back in a messy ponytail. The campfire had brought out the glow of her tanned skin against her bright T-shirt.

  Ezra had finally left them alone to help settle a gaming disagreement. Coop had wanted to suggest that he and Lia keep in touch when he left, but he hadn’t. As always, he’d been afraid that she’d say she wasn’t interested. He’d regretted his silence all winter.

  Heaving a deep breath, Coop strode to the grocery store.

  Lia glanced up when he approached her in the cooking section. He felt a little flicker of what had passed between them earlier, and her cheeks flushed again. But she didn’t turn away this time. He took that as a good sign.

  “You done already?” she asked.

  “Haven’t gone there yet.”

  She went back to studying the long row of mystery kitchen tools. To him, it seemed like a pretty good selection.

  “What’s this?” Coop picked up a wide tool that reminded him of a razor. “Could I shave with this?” He held it near his upper lip and arched a brow in question, and he finally broke through her reserve.

  With a little laugh, Lia reached up and pulled down his hand. “You’d cut yourself if you tried. That’s a combination vegetable and julienne peeler.”

  “Julienne,” he said, his skin still warm where she had touched him. “Sounds kind of familiar.”

  “You probably have heard of it. Julienne potatoes or julienne carrots are pretty common.” She hung the package back on its hook. “It’s anything cut into thin strips, usually vegetables.”

  “Ah. Okay.” Coop said.

  He continued to ask her about utensils unfamiliar to him, and by the time they walked to the check stand, her mood had lifted. As they headed out to the truck with her purchases, he didn’t know if she’d come with him to the hardware store. She did.

  When Coop paused at the garden tool aisle, Lia kept going. Setting aside the hoe he had picked up, he followed her. He grinned. Into the garden center, one of his favorite places.

  The list he had brought had most of the plants he needed, including some special orders. Since he wanted to see if they had anything new, he delayed finding the clerk and walked up and down the rows of plants with Lia.

  “What are these called?” She ran her fingers lightly overly the vibrant pink blooms on a bush.

  “Rhododendron macrophyllum.” He gave her the scientific name, and she scowled at him. He said, “Rhododendron is the common name. It’s our state flower.”

  “This one’s pretty,” she said a little later.

  “That’s a Salmonberry. It’s technically a shrub, but it can grow up to thirteen feet tall. They’re pretty hardy. We have a thicket of them on the edge of the forest.”

  “Nice.”

  As they walked, Coop noticed a pattern to the types and colors of the flowers Lia liked. She might not realize it, but she had a good eye for color combinations that translated well to plants. Maybe it had something to do with her training in decorating; maybe she just had a talent for it. An idea began to form in his mind.

  “Do you need any help with your list?” she asked once they had made it through all the plants.

  “No. I just have to give it to the clerk,” he said. “Thanks for walking with me through the garden section. I’ve added a few to my list.”

  “Happy to,” she said.

  When they got into the truck, Coop thought for a minute Lia might say something. He understood her expression. He felt that same way often when around her. She seemed conflicted though, as if she were faced with a tough decision. Lia finally settled on silence. While disappointed, he could hardly fault her. Besides, what if what she had to say wasn’t what he wanted to hear? And at this early stage, what did he want to hear?

  They drove for a few more miles, listening to the music on the radio while Lia hummed along. Coop wanted to reinforce that she could talk to him, that he was a friend. His pulse quickened. He’d promised himself there’d be no more missed opportunities. He took a deep breath.

  “I hope you know,” he said, “if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me about it.” Lia merely smiled.

  Later that evening Coop went over the day’s events as he drifted off to sleep. Something had flashed in her eyes when he had said th
at about talking to him. What had that meant?

  Lia

  After all the drama of that first day, the first two weeks in Washington seemed pretty anticlimactic. Exhausting, but anticlimactic. We spent our waking hours unpacking, stocking the pantry, moving furniture around, and participating in planning sessions.

  Every night, as I fell into my bed—which, in spite of what Mom had promised, still included Mellie—I’d vow to collect the promised pay and return to Sacramento. But every morning, not only did I find the energy to keep helping, but my excitement about the day’s projects grew.

  I found seeing Coop around the place both good and bad. The more time I spent with him, the more time I wanted to spend with him—which irritated my mom. I’d quit paying attention to her scowls.

  She seemed to do that over anything relating to the Montgomerys. I thought it was totally unfair because Coop’s parents were the sweetest things ever. Mellie loved them. Mrs. Montgomery brought over homemade cookies every day, so she had lifelong friends in the boys. And everyone else liked Coop. I mean, what wasn’t to like?

  Coop. My thoughts about him had gotten all mixed up. The week before something had passed between us when we had gone to the garden center together. It had been so intense it’d nearly taken my breath away. Kind of freaked me out, to be honest. I really liked him. But I’d only be here for the summer. Fortunately, Coop seemed satisfied with only friendship, so I didn’t have to worry about getting in over my head.

  “Morning.” I stepped beside him and picked up a hoe. Rising an hour early meant spending the extra time with him.

  “Gonna be a hot one today.” He shot me a sidelong smirk. When he joked like that it reminded me of Ezra. No wonder they’d become such good friends right away last year.

  “Yeah, I think I’m going to fry out here with a high today of sixty-eight.” I noticed some flats of flowers, all various shades of pink. “When did you get those? Please tell me these are for the heart garden.”

  Among other things, we had spent the last two days prepping a large heart-shaped planting bed that made up the centerpiece of the garden. All paths led to it and the quaint, wooden bench that sat at its head. Mom had talked about what a great place the castle would be for weddings and receptions. Coop had been charged with making his garden into a photographer’s go-to place for wedding shoots.

  “They are.” He straightened from his digging. “Tom Lee brought them out for me. I don’t think you’ve met him yet; he heads Wildwood’s volunteer fire department. Do you like the colors?”

  “I love them.” How sweet that he’d noticed which flowers had caught my attention when we’d gone to the garden center last week. “Are you going to plant them today?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Oh, yay!” I grabbed his arm and squeezed it before doing a little dance. “Can we finish it in an hour? That’s a pretty big bed.”

  “Sure, we can. Let’s get the plants out of their trays. Then you lay them out while I do the holes.”

  “Me?” I loved the way his little flowerbeds looked, the combination of colors and heights—I didn’t have that knack. Besides, his attention to detail both impressed and intimidated me. “What if it looks ugly?”

  “This’ll be your garden. How can it look ugly?” Coop asked.

  “Fine,” I said. “But you’ll tell me if something doesn’t look right, okay?”

  “Okay, but I have every confidence in you. Remember, I’ve watched you whip out those incredible little delicacies.” He rubbed his stomach and made a smacking noise with his mouth.

  I grinned, basking in his praise and remembering my grandmother’s favorite quote about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach.

  “Let’s get to work,” he said.

  By the time the hour ended my back ached from the bending, but we had set all the plants in the ground. Coop had only made a couple of suggestions. While the plants didn’t fill the bed yet, we’d mixed plenty of his homemade compost into the soil the day before. I knew the plants would grow well and fill it all in.

  “It looks great.” Coop straightened and wiped his brow, a smudge of dirt spreading across it. “Goal accomplished.”

  Laughing, I reached up to wipe it off. Our gazes met, and something flashed in his eyes. Without thinking, my hand lingered as I slid it down. I paused as that weird thing I’d experienced last week, now almost tangible, seemed to flow between us. Coop pressed his hand over mine where it cupped his cheek.

  “Lia,” he whispered, his soft voice almost a caress. “About last summer ….”

  “Yes?” I managed to ask, barely able to get the breath in to speak. Maybe last summer hadn’t all been wishful thinking on my part.

  Coop laced his fingers with mine and brought down our hands.

  “I didn’t say anything to you because I knew I’d be coming back here.”

  “Say anything about what?” My pulse sped up even faster.

  “About us.” Coop brushed his thumb over the top of my hand and sent a shiver up my arm. “My future was here, and you and Taylor only talked about opening a dessert boutique in Old Sac.” He brushed my cheek with the knuckles of his other hand. “It didn’t seem like there’d be any point in seeing if ….” Softening, his gaze dropped to my mouth and back to my eyes.

  I swallowed and licked my dry lips. “If?” It came out as a whisper. Coop leaned in. Finally. I lifted my chin and closed my eyes.

  “Hey, Lia!” Ezra shouted.

  I started, my eyes popping open. Coop let me go and stepped back. With a swift movement, he picked up some of the empty flats. By the time Ezra came into view, Coop held most of them. He didn’t look at me.

  “Hey, Ez,” Coop said. “We just finished. What do you think?”

  My big brother—whom I wanted to beat to death at the moment—didn’t quite smirk, so he might not have noticed my red face or Coop’s guilty expression.

  “Kind of cheesy, isn’t it?” Ezra pushed back his glasses as he studied the heart garden.

  “Not for what your mother has in mind,” Coop said, unfazed by the criticism. He kept his eyes fixed on my brother.

  “True enough.” Ezra turned to me. “Mom’s ready for you.”

  “Okay.” I bent to pick up one of the remaining empty flower trays. “I’ll be up as soon as I finish helping Coop clean this up.”

  Ezra did smirk then. “Better text her,” my brother said to me. “I’m off to Wildwood with Dad.” He strode from the garden.

  “Clear sky called for tomorrow,” Coop said, his hands still full.

  An almost kiss and all I got for it was a weather forecast?

  He chuckled at my expression and nodded toward his truck. “What I’m trying to ask is have you ever seen the Aurora Borealis?”

  “No. Let me help with those.” I took a few of the flats from him.

  “I’d like to show you the lights,” he said as we walked to the truck. “Want to come with me for a midnight picnic on the next clear night? You bring a blanket, and I’ll bring pizza.” He loaded the flats onto the truck and grinned. “I make a mean pizza.”

  “Sounds like fun.” My phone pinged, indicating a text. I pulled it from my pocket. “My mom.”

  “I’ll finish this,” he said. “You go ahead.”

  A midnight picnic with Coop. Just us under the Aurora Borealis. A chance for him to explain that “if.” I pushed aside the sense of unease. I wanted to feel excited about the prospect.

  ***

  Coop

  “Hey.” Ezra stepped around a large hedge and into the main garden again.

  “Hey.” Coop continued to watch Lia until she disappeared into the kitchen door, a small smile on his face. “I thought you were going somewhere with your father.”

  “Yeah. In a minute. I wanted to congratulate you on the appointment as head gardener.” Ezra slapped him on the back. “Dad just told me. He said he’s really impressed with your ideas and how hard you work.”

 
; “Thanks.” Coop grinned but didn’t try to put in words what Mr. Savage’s announcement meant. All those years of working and studying. The loss of Miles and all the uncertainty that had followed. Coop could stay at this place he loved so much. He glanced toward the kitchen again. And then there was Lia.

  Ezra shifted awkwardly.

  “What’s up?” Coop asked, turning back to him.

  “I noticed that you and my sister have been spending a lot of time together.” Ezra used the toe of his boot to swirl around the dirt.

  “Is that a problem?” Coop took a slow breath as a thought occurred to him. Of course. The boss’s daughter. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Savage didn’t want her hanging out with a lowly gardener. Even the new head gardener. Had her parents sent Ezra to warn him off?

  “No.” Ezra looked up, surprised. “Not with me. Not with my parents either, that I know of.”

  “With Lia?” Coops asked, confused.

  “Obviously not with her.” Ezra pushed back his glasses. “Look, I can tell you’re really into her. I just don’t … I mean, you know … uh.” He took a quick breath and his words came tumbling out. “Lia’s only here for the summer. She’s going back to Sacramento this fall. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see you getting hurt, man.”

  Coop didn’t know how long he stood there, taking it in. Long enough that Ezra shifted uncomfortably again.

  “Thanks for letting me know, Ez.” Coop bent over and picked up a pickax.

  “That’s it?” Ezra asked.

  Coop looked at his friend. “What do you want me to say?” He hadn’t forgotten about her dessert boutique plans. A part of him had known she hadn’t given up on that dream. Maybe he had been in denial. Maybe he thought the thing happening between them would be enough to keep her here. “Did you expect me to do something about it?”

  “Yeah. I guess I did.” Ezra pulled at the collar of his shirt.

  “Oh, I get it.” Coop leaned on the pick. “You’re hoping I’ll convince her to stay, aren’t you?”

  “If you can do that,” Ezra leaned in, “you’ll be on everyone’s happy list.”

  “If my time’s short, I’m just going to have to up my game.” Coop swung the pickax over his head and sent it plunging into the rich soil, his mind already swirling with ideas.