by Gerri Hill
Lindsey winked conspiratorially at Jack, getting an exaggerated wink in return. She was smiling as she followed his mother inside, the coolness of the house a welcome change from the heat outside.
“Excuse the mess,” Hannah said, waving at the newspapers spread out on the floor. “I’m just starting to paint.” She pointed to a bare wall. “The most godawful wallpaper I’ve ever seen in my life was there.”
Lindsey nodded politely. “I can imagine.”
Hannah looked at her directly. “So…you’re real.”
Lindsey smiled at that. “Yeah, I’m real. Not an imaginary friend.”
Hannah raised her eyebrows. “He knew I thought that?”
“Yeah. He’s a pretty smart kid.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “I live across the creek. That’s all my…my grandparents’ property over there. I stumbled across Jack one day.” She shrugged, almost embarrassed by their friendship. She was twenty years older than Jack. “I needed a fishing partner,” she said, hoping that explained it.
“Well, I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’ve had a babysitter these last few weeks and I didn’t even know it.” She moved to the fridge. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“I’m okay,” she said, thinking of the cooler she’d left down at the creek. That cold beer sure would be good right about now. “I should probably get going anyway. Jack just said you wanted to meet me.”
“Yes. I was worried about him, actually. His father…he—”
“Died,” she supplied. “Brain tumor. I’m very sorry for your loss,” she said automatically.
“He told you? I’m surprised. He doesn’t ever talk about it.”
“Well…yeah, we’ve talked about it. Listen…I hope you don’t mind Jack hanging out with me. The kid likes to fish.”
“Apparently.”
Lindsey laughed. “The creek is not exactly the best place. He’s caught a few sunfish and a couple of perch. He probably catches the same ones over and over.”
“I know it’s shallow. That’s the only reason I let him go down there alone.”
“Yeah, it is. But…I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, I could take him out and do some real fishing.”
“Real fishing?”
“Yeah. Our property borders the Frio. There are some great fishing holes.” She brushed at the hair on her forehead nervously. “I…when I was growing up, I practically lived out here during the summer months.”
“And you want to take him fishing?”
Lindsey met her gaze. “Yeah. I think he’d have fun.”
Hannah looked at her suspiciously. “And what are you getting out of it?”
How did she answer that question? She didn’t even know the answer herself. What was she getting out of it? Company? Sure, that went without saying. It was more than that, though. Jack gave her a purpose…a reason to get up each day. He helped fill a little bit of the emptiness that surrounded her. He brought a little bit of light into her dark world. But how did she tell his mother that? How did she tell Hannah Larson that her son—without even knowing it—was helping to heal her broken heart?
“I’m staying here all summer…by myself.” She gave a slight shrug. “With my grandparents gone,” she said evasively, “it’s a little lonely out there. Jack’s been great company.” She smiled. “And Max and Barney have become inseparable. So…if you think it’d be okay, I’d love to take him fishing to the river.” It was her turn to look at Hannah with a questionable gaze.
“Well, I’m sure he would enjoy that. I just don’t want him to monopolize your time.”
“He’s not.” She pointed to the bare wall. “You seem to be busy with painting. I’d be happy to take him off your hands for a few hours.”
“Okay, no offense, Lindsey, but—and while you seem like a very nice person—I don’t even know you. I mean—”
“How is Mrs. Larson? Lilly, I believe is her name. I haven’t seen her in years.”
Hannah looked surprised. “You know Lilly?”
“Well, she used to run us out of the creek when we were kids,” she said with a laugh. “Jack said she was in a nursing home.”
Hannah nodded. “They moved her there a few months ago. She’s ninety-two, I think.”
“Wow.” She headed to the door. “I should get going. It was nice to meet you.” She paused at the door. “If you’d like to exchange phone numbers…you know, in case—”
“In case I decide to let Jack go fishing with you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I hope you will. Because even though you don’t know me, I know the Larsons. Like I said, I spent every summer out here.”
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to exchange numbers.”
When she went back outside, Jack was throwing a ball to the dogs. She was pleased that Max seemed to be winning at this game. Maybe her evening sessions with him were paying off.
“So? How did it go?” Jack asked quietly.
“I’m not sure yet. I think she’s still in shock that I’m real,” she said with a smile. She ruffled his head. “Your mom is pretty cute. You probably shouldn’t call her old. She’d be pissed,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes.
“I should go.”
“Okay,” he said, his smile fading.
She paused, then tapped his head playfully. “See you later, buddy.”
Chapter Twelve
Hannah was literally speechless as she watched Lindsey and Jack. An affectionate ruffle of his hair, the dejected look on Jack’s face as Lindsey walked away…she noticed all of it. So yes, there really was a friend. She felt a twinge of guilt for doubting him. But what did it mean? Why was this woman hanging around her son? It was odd. Very odd.
She stood at the window long after Lindsey McDermott had left, still watching as Jack sat on the porch, his legs swinging idly, his gaze on the woods and the creek beyond that. Yes…it was odd. And she had no clue as to what to say to him.
She finally pushed the door open and went outside. He glanced at her, offering a tiny smile as she sat down beside him.
“So that’s your Lindsey, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” He got right to the point. “Can I go fishing with her? Please,” he begged.
“I don’t know, Jack. I don’t even know her.”
“But I know her,” he said. “She’s…she needs a friend.” His voice was quiet and she thought he was trying not to cry.
“And you need a friend?” she asked softly.
He nodded. Yes, he was trying very hard not to cry. She didn’t have the heart to disappoint him.
“Okay…you can go with her.”
He flew into her arms, nearly knocking them off onto their backs.
“Thank you!”
She hugged him tightly, hoping she wasn’t making a mistake…hoping that Lindsey McDermott was as trustworthy as she seemed.
“Okay…go get cleaned up. Let’s drive into Leaky. I’ve got some shopping to do. Then we’ll get an early dinner. How about Mexican food?”
“Yay!”
He ran into the house with Barney at his heels. The lone Mexican food restaurant in the area was up in Leaky, forty-five minutes away. It wasn’t great, by any means, but it would do. Living in San Antonio, she was spoiled by all the choices. Here? The twenty-minute drive into Utopia would get her to a very modest grocery store and an old, dated hardware store. There was exactly one place to eat—the café, which served decent enough burgers. There was one beauty shop which she dreaded having to go to when it came time for a trim. There was a lone gas station and convenience store with a laundry and car wash. There were five churches. Five. And three antique shops. Two liquor stores. Her favorite spot so far was the Utopia General Store. They sold a little bit of everything, and they even had a few groceries, along with a meat market and a deli.
She could make do. Still…moving from a vibrant, thriving city to the remote Hill Country northwest of San Antonio would be an adjustment for her. An adjustment she�
�d been willing to make. As she’d told her mother, once Jack started school, once she got out and actually met people, they would surely feel more comfortable out here. But for now…it was just the two of them…she and Jack.
And, of course, Lindsey McDermott.
She finally got up from her spot on the porch, glancing once at the woods the woman had disappeared into. Who was Lindsey McDermott? If she had to guess, she would say Lindsey was thirtyish. An attractive woman, her dark hair cut in a cute, sporty style. She appeared to be well-mannered and perfectly normal. And she’d given Jack permission to go fishing with her, but who was she? Well, she had no choice but to ask Margie about her. Margie hadn’t been by the house today, which meant she’d definitely be by tomorrow to see what color she’d picked out for the kitchen.
She went inside, glancing at the bare wall. She’d tackle it first thing in the morning, she decided. And maybe with a little persuasion—like pancakes—she’d get Jack to help. She paused, looking around the room. It was beginning to look more like her own kitchen, but she wondered if she’d ever feel like it was truly hers. Margie—despite her insistence that the house was hers to do with as she wanted—never failed to make a comment about how Lilly would be “devastated” to see all the changes. The changes were minimal, in her opinion. Even ripping off the hideous wallpaper was minor. If she really felt like this was her house, there were countless other changes she would make. If they made the year and decided to stay on, then she would insist on them. Now, however, she didn’t have the will to fight with Margie over it. That had always been James’s duty…to stand up to his mother. It had been a constant battle and over the years, their visits had gotten shorter—day trips mostly—and less frequent. When James got sick, they stopped coming altogether. Margie and Dennis made the drive into San Antonio to see them. At the end, Margie stayed for nearly two weeks. Hannah couldn’t deny her that…her wish to be there when “the Lord called him home.” But when Margie tried to change the funeral plans, plans that James had set up himself, Hannah had had enough. They both said things that they probably shouldn’t have, but she made her point and Margie had left, only coming back for the day of the service. Because of that, she’d been as shocked as anyone when Margie had proposed that she and Jack move to their place here near Utopia.
She blew out her breath and looked around the kitchen once again. No, even with her familiar things out, it still didn’t feel like home. She wondered if it ever would.
Chapter Thirteen
“This is so cool!”
Lindsey smiled at Jack’s exuberance. The Mule was bouncing along the trail, the dogs running behind them. After picking Jack up at the creek, she decided to take the long way around to the river. They climbed up the rocky trail, going higher up the mountain where the view looked down toward Concan and the Frio River on one side and then east, toward Utopia. The mountains in the Texas Hill Country didn’t rival the Rockies by any means, but they were a beautiful sight nonetheless, some rising over three thousand feet. Granite and craggy limestone outcrops, wooded canyons and of course, the fertile river valley—she had a little of it all here…the river, the creek, and the wooded hills. No wonder her grandmother called it their little slice of paradise.
She stopped the Mule at the pullout on Antler Peak—her grandfather’s name for it—and paused to take in the views.
“You can see forever up here,” Jack said in awe. “Look! There’s some deer running.”
“Yeah. I should have brought the binoculars.”
“Do you shoot deer?”
“Me? No.” She shook her head. Years and years ago, when they’d first bought the property, her grandfather had hunted, and when her father was young, he’d also hunted. Over the years, that tradition had stopped—thankfully. By the time she came around, the deer feeder had been moved closer to the house so they could watch the deer, not shoot them.
“We have deer come right up to the porch,” Jack said. “Barney barks at them. Mom says they’re coming up to eat the shrubs.”
“Yeah, they’ll eat just about anything. I’ve got a feeder at the house, but there’s no corn in it. I’ve seen them go to my grandmother’s vegetable garden but…”
Jack met her eyes. “There’s nothing in it?”
“No. Not this year.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Maybe next year.”
She smiled at him affectionately. “Yeah…maybe next year I’ll try my hand at gardening.”
Before starting out again, she put the tired puppies on the back. Max had ridden with her before, but this was a first for Barney. With tails wagging, they hung their heads over the side as she headed down to the river trail. When she passed the cutoff that would take her to the back side of the pond, she had a sudden urge to visit it instead of the river. She looked over at Jack.
“So…it’s kinda late already. Hot.”
He nodded.
“Want to go swimming instead of fishing?”
He grinned. “Oh, yeah!” Then his smile faltered a little. “I didn’t bring anything to swim in.”
“Well…we’ll run by my place. My nephews…well, they kept stuff there.”
His smile faded altogether. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
She’d done little more than stick her head into the spare bedrooms that her brother and sister had used for their families. The master bedroom, where her grandparents had slept, had been converted into her own room. Their clothes had been boxed, but so far she hadn’t had the heart to give anything away. Same with the other rooms. Mostly summer clothes—river clothes—and a few odds and ends. She needed to box everything up, clean it up, but she’d been in no hurry.
“Wow,” Jack said when they turned into the lane that would take them to the house. “This is pretty.”
The lane was lined with pecan trees, eight on each side, their branches reaching across, making a canopy overhead. When they pulled up to the house, he uttered another “wow.”
“This is bigger than our house,” he said.
“I don’t know. I think it’s the decks and porches that make it look big. Three bedrooms, that’s all.” She lifted the dogs off the back. “That’s why my parents had the little river cabin. There wasn’t room for all of us here.”
Max and Barney took off around the side, chasing after a squirrel that had apparently come to check the bird feeder. The empty, neglected bird feeder. She had a sudden vision of her grandmother carrying the old blue bucket she used, scooping out seed with a coffee can and filling the feeders.
She walked over to them now, conscious of Jack beside her. The area was nestled between four small oaks. The birdbath, complete with a mister hanging from a branch, was dry as a bone. The three feeders—two box and one cylinder—hung from branches, the seed long gone. Spiderwebs dangled from them now, and she wiped them away. Her grandmother would be disappointed in her. Hell, she was disappointed in her. She’d abandoned the things that her grandmother loved the most—the garden, the deer and bird feeders. She’d neglected them, not giving them a thought really. She was too caught up in her own grief to pay them any attention. But like her uncle said, this was where the laughter was, this was where the love was. If she was going to get that back…try to get that back…then she needed to bring back some of the things that her grandmother loved.
“Are you okay, Lindsey?”
Jack’s words were barely more than a whisper. She pulled her gaze from the empty, lonely feeders, giving him a quick smile.
“Yeah. I was thinking about how much my grandmother liked to watch the birds. And how I’d neglected this area.” She walked over to the edge where the faucet was and turned it on. The mister came to life, spraying a fine mist of water over the birdbath and the once vibrant ferns that were around it. She mentally added birdseed and deer corn to her shopping list.
“Okay, come on. Let’s see if we can find you something to swim in.”
* * *
“He we
nt where?”
“Fishing,” Hannah said again.
Margie frowned so sharply her eyebrows were meeting between her eyes. “With a McDermott?”
“Yes. Lindsey. Do you know her?”
“The McDermotts were killed,” she said. “A terrible accident. The whole family,” she said with a shake of her head. “I tell you, he was too old to still be flying that plane, but they always thought they were better than everyone else.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Some ski trip,” she said with a wave of her hand. “The plane crashed. I don’t know all of the details, just what we heard in town. Lilly said the whole family was nothing but hoodlums. Always were. Crazy people, she called them.”
Hannah frowned. Hoodlums? “So…this Lindsey is…who then?”
“I think she’s their granddaughter, but I’d heard the whole family had perished. I didn’t think anyone was living over there.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Then why on God’s green earth would you let Jack go off with her? Why…she could abduct him. Next thing you know, we’ll have to file an Amber Alert or something,” she said, her hands waving wildly in the air.
She didn’t want to just dismiss Margie’s fears…it’s something she’d already thought of herself. But as James would say, they were overreacting.
“Jack has apparently been spending time with her…down at the creek. She seemed perfectly normal, nice. I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” she said, hoping to ease her own fears as well.
“Nowadays you can’t trust people, Hannah.”
She put her paintbrush down and glanced at the clock. It hadn’t even been an hour since Jack had left. Was it too soon to call and check up on him? Yes, of course it was. Lindsey had promised to take good care of him. Jack had been so excited he was practically dancing in the kitchen when Hannah had called her, telling Lindsey that he could go fishing. So no, she wasn’t going to buy into Margie’s assertion that Lindsey McDermott was a “hoodlum.” As she’d thought earlier, Lindsey was nice and appeared to be perfectly normal. She would trust her own instincts.