Sugar Shack

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Sugar Shack Page 7

by Paisley Scott


  His scowl deepened. He’d never asked her to marry him. Instead, she’d insinuated it that day. He was comfortable with Hannah, like the security you’d feel with a broken-in pair of work boots, or gloves. It had nothing to do with love. And excitement sure as hell never played a part with them. Even though he never gave her a ring, she was content to tell folks in town they were engaged anyway. He was fine with that since it didn’t cause any shift in his life. Hannah hadn’t even asked to move in with him. So how serious could it possibly be?

  Luke rubbed his forehead, trying to erase the deep crease he felt there. “God, what a mess,” he grumbled.

  ****

  The sun hadn’t broken the horizon when Catherine awoke the next morning. Staying away from Luke last night was the hardest thing she’d done in a long, long time. Sleep eluded her and she felt physically and mentally drained. She had to get away and collect her thoughts. Distance would clear her head, help her reason. At least she hoped it would.

  Gathering her bag, she slipped downstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible so Luke wouldn’t hear her. Maybe she could sneak away and…she sighed. And what? Sneak away like the coward you were ten years ago? After dragging her suitcase to the back door, she checked the coffee pot, smiling when she saw he’d set it up the night before. She plugged it in and it immediately started hissing as it hit the brew cycle. After a few minutes, the enticing scent of Kona coffee wafted through the room. Two cups sat at the ready beside the coffee maker.

  Another smile touched her lips. Why did he have to be so thoughtful? Leaving would be a lot easier if he wasn’t such a genuinely great guy. She sighed, flopping down in a chair to wait out the coffee.

  “Mornin’,” Luke said from the doorway. Leaning against the doorjamb, he looked incredibly sexy in his bare feet and unsnapped jeans with a flannel shirt he’d thrown on and neglected to button. His hair was tousled from sleep, and all she wanted was to lead him straight back to bed and join him there.

  “Morning,” she returned, clasping her hands against her knee to keep from running her fingers lovingly over that flat, firm stomach of his. She stood and walked to the coffee pot. “Storm’s stopped.”

  “I noticed.” He came to stand beside her, holding both cups as she poured. “Frank’s probably already out plowing.”

  She nodded. “Sorry, I’m not as good at the whole breakfast thing. If you’re hungry, I’m afraid I can’t help you unless you have a box of doughnuts or—”

  “Cat,” he interrupted. “It’s okay. I’m not hungry. Come sit down and share coffee with me before you leave.”

  She followed him to the table and sat across from him. Quiet surrounded them. Even the sounds outside were silent, muffled by the thick blanket of snow. Silence hung over them like a living thing.

  Reaching across the table, Luke covered her hand with his. “As much as I hate having you walk out of my life again, I understand why it has to happen, but I’d like to propose a deal.” He held up his hand before she could say anything. “Just let me throw it out there. I’ve thought on it all night and I really think it might be doable for both of us.”

  Cat nodded, remaining silent.

  He took a deep breath and said, “Since neither of us was really prepared for the feelings that still seem to exist between us, I honestly don’t think we can just walk away from this and not look back. Or if we did, we’d look back in regret. For whatever reason, Fate decided to give us another shot, and I’d like to see if we’re better the second time around. Do you think that’s fair?”

  Hot tears tumbled down her cheeks. As much as she’d hurt him in the past, he was offering to try again. It wasn’t forgiveness outright—not yet, at least. But it was a start. “I do,” she murmured. “But what about your fiancée?”

  He nodded. “That’s another cobweb in my past I need to straighten out.”

  Catherine swallowed the lump in her throat. “Look, Luke, as happy as this conversation is making me, I still have to argue for what’s fair. And as much as I want a second chance with you, you already have another life planned with someone else.” She pulled her hand away, clasping it with the other it in her lap.

  The wooden chair creaked as he leaned back in it, looking at her. “I’m telling you the truth, Cat. This thing, it’s not as complicated as you think, but it’s not uncomplicated either. I’ll work it out and believe me, none of this is your doing. The situation with Hannah is actually something I shouldn’t have ever let happen and something I should have called off months ago.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was he telling her the truth? Breaking up with the woman on his own because he wanted to and not because she’d interfered? “I can’t have that hanging over my head, Luke. Don’t break her heart if you truly love her.”

  “Cat, please, when you leave today, just think about this. If you’re willing to try to make a go of this—of us—together again, meet me back here on New Year’s Eve. That’s all I ask.”

  “What’s so special about New Year’s?”

  The sexy grin that lit his face brightened the room. “New beginnings. Fresh starts.” He shrugged. “Plus it gives us time to settle our lives and make sure this is what we want to do.”

  “So, what if one of us changes our mind?” she ventured.

  His lips thinned. “Well, that’s definitely a possibility. If that’s the case, we don’t have to show up.”

  Seemed simple enough. “Where’s the rendezvous planned?”

  “What better place than the sugar shack?”

  A soft laugh escaped her lips. Of all the places in the world, he’d chosen the little house behind the barn where sap was turned into syrup. “That’s cute.”

  “So that’s my proposal. If you want to try again, meet me on New Year’s Eve in the sugar shack.”

  “I’ll bring the champagne,” she told him, wiping tears away.

  Chapter Ten

  Traffic snarled through downtown Chicago. It was always like this after Christmas, with people coming home or leaving the city. Catherine finally made her way to her exit and soon pulled into the parking garage. Nearly two weeks had passed since she’d been with Luke. She hoped the distance and time away would dim her longing for him, if only to make daily life more bearable without him. But sadly, the minutes apart from him only made her heart heavier with each lonely beat.

  She stepped into the elevator and thought about the conversation she’d had with Elsie this morning.

  “Hypothetically, El,” she asked, “how hard would it be to have one of your reporters telecommute?”

  Her boss gawked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m interested in going home—to Vermont—and I may actually move back if things work out.”

  Elsie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to move in with your parents are you, Catherine?”

  She nearly choked on her own tongue. “No. Oh wow, no. Much as I love my folks, that is a ship that’s long-sailed. Visiting is nice, but living with them now that I’m in my thirties—I’d sooner chew off my right hand.” Tucking a strand of her freshly-cut hair behind her ear, she confided, “I just really enjoyed my last visit and I want to see if it’s worth moving back. So if I decide to move, I need to know if I still have a job with Off the Beaten Path.”

  Elsie’s mouth moved like a fish out of water, with no sound escaping.

  Catherine took the opportunity to back toward the door. “I’ll let you think on it. I’m going to go back there for a trial period in two days, though. So I’d love to know if I need to get my resume together and updated before I leave. Great talking to you, Elsie. Have a great New Year!”

  ****

  She giggled as the elevator doors slid open on her floor. Never in her life had she been disrespectful to Elsie, but damn, it was time for a change, and she might as well ride her snowball all the way.

  Inside her apartment, she threw her purse on the couch and flopped down beside it.
Her gaze traveled around her impeccably decorated place. It took her years to collect all the fine art and sculptures occupying the tiny room. She blew out an exasperated breath. So what if she had lots of fine things and material objects sharing her space? They sure didn’t keep her warm at night, or entice her to run home to be with them. Her thoughts drifted back to Luke, and she wondered what he was doing right now. She checked her watch. A little past nine o’clock. He was probably making sure Sapphire was comfy and then locking up for the night.

  Pain thumped in her chest. God, she missed him. She grabbed a throw pillow and pressed it against her face, trying not to cry. But it was useless, she always cried at night when she came home these days.

  She dropped the pillow and rummaged through her purse until she found the airline ticket. She pulled it out and read it again. Chicago to Burlington. One way. Dated tomorrow evening—the only flight she could book during the holiday rush. Come hell or high water, she was going to be there for New Year’s Eve.

  She prayed Luke would be there, too.

  ****

  The scenery from the airport was nearly the same as it had been the last time she’d driven to Luke’s. The clouds above made it even darker and snow came down in soggy clumps that stuck to her windshield like white mud. The drifts on either side of the road were higher, but the highway was still drivable—for now.

  She checked the clock on the CD player. 9:43, and she was still about an hour from where the road forked and led to his farm. A shiver ran through her. Her cheeks flushed. She’d thought she was clever pulling over to a hamburger joint and running into the restroom to strip down to just a simple garter belt, which she covered with her long, insulated igloo coat. Wouldn’t Luke be surprised? Another shiver rippled across her skin. Not quite so bright now that she thought about it. Who went around naked under a coat in a blizzard? At least her feet were warm, encased in boots lined with faux fur.

  The heater made a sound like fingers scraping across the teeth of a comb. She glanced at the clock. 10:15. Not long now.

  Snow blew mercilessly across the road, blurring in her headlights and making the wipers work harder to keep the windshield clear. The heater made another sound, like the snapping of those imaginary comb teeth. She held her hand against the vent and felt lukewarm air blowing out. “Crap! Please don’t give out on me now. I’ve got at least ten more miles to go.” The heater seemed to respond to her begging, and made no further noise.

  Until about a mile from the fork in the road. Then the heater not only snapped, crackled and popped, but screamed as well, like a balloon deflating through its overstretched neck. The car chugged along until the steam from the hood became too thick to see through and fogged up the windshield.

  Catherine looked in her rearview mirror and saw no lights, no traffic, no houses nearby. She tried her cell. No signal. She leaned back against the seat and let the car cool off. After ten minutes, when the steam dissipated, she tried turning the key. The car simply clicked. She tried again. Click. Click. Click, click, click.

  She screamed and beat the steering wheel and stomped the useless accelerator. Why? Why did this have to happen to her tonight of all nights? Why was Fate playing such a cruel trick on her? She grabbed her cell phone and checked the time. 11:22. She could do it. She could make it if she hurried. It was only about a mile, in powdery snow, and she was wearing boots and a coat.

  And nothing else.

  Screw that. She had to get moving. Leaving her luggage, she locked the door and opened the trunk, grateful the rental company stocked a survival kit for winter travel. A blanket, bottled water, flares and a flashlight were packed neatly in a box above the spare tire. She grabbed the blanket, draped it around her head and shoulders, and took the flashlight, flicking it on.

  Her feet sank in the snow as she started her trek toward Luke’s house, hoping she wouldn’t turn into a pumpkin if she arrived a tad after midnight.

  ****

  Luke checked his watch again. It was a quarter to twelve and still no sign of Cat. Had she changed her mind? He frowned. Was she really going to play such a cruel trick? He opened the door to the sugar shack again, straining his eyes through the flurries and looking out into the darkness, hoping to see headlights coming down the driveway. Nothing. He closed the door again and paced.

  The wood oven had been going since early this evening to warm up the small house. During high season the stove stayed lit for days as they boiled the sap down. Today, he’d come out here special to make it cozy for Cat’s arrival, spreading blankets and quilts over the floor, placing a basket of wine and cheese and bread nearby.

  Luke paced, worried Cat wouldn’t show because she still believed she might have broken up a real engagement between Hannah and him. He rolled his tight shoulders. Breaking up with Hannah had been something he should have done months ago. Hell, years ago. But it was a relationship he fell into and it was comfortable enough. Until Cat appeared again and breathed color back into his monochrome world.

  Hannah didn’t take his decision lightly, but he let her walk all over him for too long, simply because he didn’t care one way or the other. Everyone in town warned him she was just after his land and what it would bring her after they got married. He never asked the woman to marry him in the first place. It was her own fault for concocting that story and telling everyone who’d listen.

  He breathed a sigh of relief, like an animal who barely escaped the trapper.

  Twisting his wrist, he checked his watch again. Thirty seconds to midnight. He yanked open the door and peered into the night again, praying for headlights. Please, Cat, he begged silently. Come home to me.

  No headlights appeared. No sound. Only silently falling snow, and ice cracking off high branches.

  Mindless of the cold, he sat on the stair stoop outside and held his head in his hands.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

  ****

  About a quarter of a mile from her car, Catherine felt every chilling bite of Old Man Winter. “N-n-not long n-n-now,” she assured herself through chattering teeth. She’d never been so cold in her life. Straight up the hill, she repeated the words like a mantra.

  Her legs were tired, and her feet, so cozy before in their faux fur, were now wet and freezing. Mounds of snow stuck to the top of the blanket covering her head and shoulders like a shawl. Every so often, she’d dump it off and drape it back in place. She could only imagine how much worse it would have been with the snow sticking to her face and head.

  Finally, the long driveway came into view and she let out a whoop of joy. Even though her feet were killing her, she trudged ahead at a quicker pace.

  Halfway up the drive, she saw a figure disengage itself from the lit sugar shack and run toward her. “Cat?”

  “Luke!” she cried, nearly dropping her flashlight as she waved it. “Luke! I’m here!”

  He reached her within seconds. “Cat!” he said, excitement shining like sunlight in his amber eyes. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

  “My car b-b-broke d-d-down and—”

  “Baby.” Concern slid across his features. “You’re freezing.” Without another word, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the wooden shack. Kicking the door shut behind them, he set her down in front of the roaring wood stove.

  She smiled. “Mmm. That’s nice.”

  “Take off those wet things, sweetheart.” He unwrapped the blanket from her head.

  “See, that’s the funny part of this st-st-story,” she said, trying to smile, but her lips were too cold. “I was going to s-s-surprise you.” She shrugged out of the coat and let it fall to the floor. “Ta da!” she said, turning her naked body to face him.

  He frowned, grabbed a quilt off the floor in front of the stove and wrapped it around her. “That was an incredibly stupid thing to do,” he scolded, rubbing his hands over the material to help warm her up. “And incredibly sexy. But still...” He kissed the top of her damp head. “Very scary and
dangerous.”

  Catherine kicked off her boots and stomped her feet, trying to get sensation back into her cold toes. “I know. I know,” she grumbled, feeling like a fool. “I just wanted to make a memorable impression on you.”

  He handed her a glass of wine he’d poured earlier for them to ring in the New Year. “You have always made a memorable impression on me, sweetheart. Since the moment I first saw you in college. Now drink that wine, it’ll warm you up.”

  She did as he instructed, feeling the hot trail of it singe her throat and immediately warm her blood. She took another sip and sat down on the blankets he’d laid in front of the stove. “You’ve got this pretty cozy.”

  Luke joined her on the floor. “That’s because I was trying to be romantic.”

  She grinned, reaching out to stroke his jaw. “Well, you succeeded. I love it.”

  Grabbing the other glass of wine, he held it up and said, “Happy New Year, Cat.”

  Clinking her glass to his, she said, “Happy New Year, Luke. Thanks for this.” She spread her arm out to indicate the room.

  He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips.

  She pulled back. “Thank me for what?”

  His gaze dropped to her bare breasts. “For making such a memorable impression on me.”

  Laughing, they vowed to make more toasts later. But for now, they had ten long years to make up for.

 

 

 


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