by Gerri Hill
Jack came back and resumed his spot on the deck, knees drawn up and his iPad resting against them. Curiosity got the best of her.
“Margie said that your…that your grandparents were in an accident,” she said quietly.
Lindsey nodded and Hannah could see the sadness on her face, even as the early evening shadows lengthened. Lindsey finally turned her head, meeting her gaze.
“My grandfather was a pilot.” She said no more for the longest time, then Hannah saw her swallow. “There was a…there was a crash. They—”
“Look! Deer!”
Jack’s excited voice interrupted them, and Hannah wondered at his enthusiasm. They had deer milling around their house all the time. But she followed his gaze and her eyes widened. A buck, a huge buck, was under the feeder eating corn. Next to him was a doe and another smaller buck.
“Wow,” she whispered. “He’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. He doesn’t come every day, though,” Lindsey said. “But the other one, the little six-pointer, he comes almost every evening. I call him Little Bucky.”
Hannah smiled. “But you haven’t named that monster yet? What is he? At least a ten?”
“Yeah. And there’ll be more. Last evening there were twelve deer total.” Lindsey paused. “You grew up in the city?”
Hannah nodded. “I did. When James and I first married, we came out here to visit several times a year. But…well, his mother—Margie—can be difficult to get along with, like I said. Our visits dwindled to a couple of times a year. Even with Jack, we still didn’t come here much.”
“I like it here,” Jack chimed in, letting her know he was listening to their conversation.
“Now you do. And I would guess it has more to do with Lindsey and less to do with your grandparents,” she told him. She turned to Lindsey. “Margie invites us at least once a week to have dinner with them. We’ve gone a few times. That’s the extent of us seeing Dennis. He never comes to the house. Margie, on the other hand, pops over several times a week.”
“Well, you said she doesn’t like me. Does she know you’ve been out with me?”
Hannah shook her head. “No. Actually, I haven’t seen her since the day…well,” she lowered her voice. “Since the day Jack disappeared on me.” She met Lindsey’s eyes. “Since I told you to—”
“Stay away from him,” Lindsey finished for her, but there was a smile on her face. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out.”
Hannah laughed. “No…I’m sorry.” Her smile faded. “I…well, I…”
“It’s okay,” Lindsey said. “It’s all good now, huh?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes. It’s been a wonderful day. Yesterday too. Now I know why Jack was always so anxious to see you. You’ve made it fun.” She glanced at Lindsey quickly. “It hasn’t been fun in so long,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper, hoping Jack hadn’t heard her.
Lindsey nodded sadly. “I know what you mean.”
Of course she would, Hannah thought. How insensitive of her to assume it was only her and Jack lacking in the fun department. They hadn’t lost their entire family. The sadness in Lindsey’s eyes nearly broke her heart. Before she could say something, offer some words of comfort, Lindsey got up and headed back into the house. It was just as well. As far as Lindsey knew, Hannah wasn’t aware of her loss. Lindsey had only mentioned her grandparents. Unless, of course, Lindsey assumed that Jack had told her.
She looked over at Jack, who was again engrossed in his game. When she stood, he looked up at her.
“I’m going inside to help Lindsey with dinner,” she said. “Be right back.”
“Okay.”
She found Lindsey in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a tomato held in her hand. When she heard Hannah, she looked up, then quickly turned, picking up a knife.
“Salad okay?” Lindsey asked. “I’ve got some squash too. I could—”
“Salad is fine.” She moved up next to her, waiting until Lindsey looked at her. “You want to talk?”
Lindsey let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose Jack told you.”
“Only with a little prodding, and at that, he told me very little. He seems very protective of you.”
Lindsey smiled. “Yeah. He’s a great kid, but I guess you already know that.”
“Thank you. He’s more mature than he should be at nine, but I guess I should be thankful for that.” She touched Lindsey’s arm. “Margie is the one who told me about your grandparents. She said your family had perished. I didn’t really know what all that entailed.”
Lindsey put the knife down and turned to her. “It happened in early February. And yes, my whole family.” She swallowed. “But I don’t want to ruin the evening…or dinner, by talking about it,” she said quietly. Lindsey squared her shoulders. “For the most part, I’m dealing with it.” A small smile touched her face. “Jack…Jack has helped a lot.”
Hannah nodded, finally understanding the depth of their relationship. It made sense now how upset Jack had been when Lindsey hadn’t shown up that day…when Hannah had told her to stay away. Jack had been worried something had happened to Lindsey, worried that she was hurt. And his words came back to her now.
“She’s my friend. You can’t make her stay away. You can’t! She needs me!”
She cleared her throat slightly. “Lindsey…I’m very, very sorry for what I said to you on the phone that night. I was feeling a bit…well, insecure, I guess. And lonely,” she added. “And Jack…Jack is my lifeline. Only it seemed he would rather be with you than with me.” When Lindsey would have spoken, she held her hand up, stopping her. “I’m only saying this because I didn’t realize the extent of your relationship with him.” She paused. “Or his with you. I’m sorry.”
Lindsey nodded and their eyes held for a moment. “Like I said, he’s a good kid.” She smiled. “Too damn smart for his own good.” She laughed lightly. “Too damn cute for his own good.”
“That he is,” she agreed. Then she gently moved Lindsey out of the way. “I’m great with salads. Let me.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll get the grill going.” Lindsey walked away, then stopped and turned back around. “Thanks, Hannah.” At Hannah’s raised eyebrows, she explained. “For offering to talk. Listen. My emotions are still sometimes very raw. I may…well, I may take you up on it sometime.” She paused. “And it goes both ways. I mean, with your husband and all…if you want to talk.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
After Lindsey had dropped Jack and Hannah off at the creek—after she’d walked them across it and up to their house using her flashlight—she’d taken the long way home, climbing up the mountain to Antler Peak. It was a crystal clear night, the sky filled with stars. The moon, still a week from full, was already creeping higher in the sky.
She stopped at the top and got out. Max was riding in the front with her, but he was too tired and sleepy to follow her. He sprawled out, watching her as she leaned against the side, her gaze turned up into the heavens.
It had been a good day, she told herself. A really good day. She’d had a moment there when, sitting on her grandparents’ deck, she’d been nearly overwhelmed by the past. It was the first time she’d had company…the first time she’d entertained, if you could call it that. The first time the deck had someone on it other than herself…and her family. As they’d sat there, watching the evening, watching the deer come up…she’d looked around, almost expecting to see her parents, her brother, her sister…the kids. Sadness had settled and if Hannah and Jack hadn’t been there, she feared she would have slipped back into the early stages of her grief.
Hannah had apparently understood. She’d come in search of her, had offered to talk. That had surprised her. But why should it? Hannah had her own grief. Of course she understood what Lindsey was going through.
So Lindsey had pushed her grief away. Instead of living in the past, she lived in the moment. She’d teased with Jack, she’d cooked their steaks, a
nd she’d chatted with Hannah. The evening had ended on a good note. She’d enjoyed herself, and she thought that Hannah had too. By the time dinner was over and they’d sat out to finish off their wine, Jack had sunk down onto one of the chairs and had fallen asleep.
She and Hannah had talked quietly, not touching on anything too personal, just enjoying the conversation. As Hannah had told her, Jack—and Margie—wasn’t her only outlet. For Lindsey, Jack, too, was her only outlet. Perhaps it was good that she and Hannah got along as well as they did. It would be nice to have someone to talk to. Not necessarily about her family, about her grief…just nice to have a friend. And she thought she and Hannah could become friends, despite the obvious differences between them. They got along well enough. She lifted a corner of her mouth in a half smile. Well, after they got past the initial meeting that is and Hannah telling her to stay away. They were past that now.
She took a deep breath and shifted, her gaze following the progress of the moon overhead. She supposed she should get back to the house. It would be an early day tomorrow. She had promised Jack she’d take him fishing in the morning. Hannah hadn’t yet decided if she would join them or not. Whether she did or didn’t, it would still be a short outing. Hannah and Jack had plans in the afternoon. Hannah had told her that Margie and Dennis were having a Saturday get-together with family. Jack had moaned in protest.
“I’d rather go swimming with Lindsey.”
Hannah had smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m certain I would too.”
Lindsey had felt a twinge of jealousy that they actually had family, but she knew it wasn’t the same. These were in-laws. These were her husband’s people, not theirs. She had learned enough from Jack and Hannah to know that they weren’t close to this side of the family. But still, it had made her miss what she knew she’d never have again—a family gathering.
No…because there was no more family left to gather. Only her.
And just like that…grief settled upon her shoulders, weighing them down. She felt alone…and lonely. Out here, under the night sky, where there were no sights or sounds of other people, she felt very alone indeed. It was as if everyone had deserted her, left her behind to fend for herself…as if she were the only person left in this world.
She felt a moment of panic…felt like the dark night was swallowing her up. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, and she looked around, feeling frightened. Then Max shifted on the seat and she relaxed again. She listened, hearing other night sounds…familiar sounds that had faded to the background. She heard the shrill, rolling sound of a screech owl down below in the canyon. And later, she heard a sound that made her smile. Whip-poor-will. No, she corrected herself. Common poorwill, her grandmother had said. Their calls were similar, though, and she listened to the haunting sound as it echoed across the rocks and through the trees. She tilted her head, finally hearing an answering call.
No. She wasn’t alone after all. She blew out another breath, then got back inside the Mule. Max moved over a little, then lay back down, his head resting on her thigh. She rubbed his head lightly, letting her fingers caress his ear several times before turning the key. The Mule’s engine broke the silence, drowning out the night sounds…the night sounds that had changed from lonely to peaceful in a matter of seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hannah had originally planned to let Jack go with Lindsey by himself. For one, she wasn’t exactly a fan of fishing. In fact, she had been once before and that was before James got sick. They’d taken Jack out to a catfish farm one day. And two…she’d promised Margie she’d make a side dish to bring to the party that afternoon.
Despite that, here she sat in the shade, watching as Lindsey helped Jack bait his hook. Not a pole today. No, it was a rod and reel that Lindsey said she’d found up at the house. It looked new and unused so she wasn’t sure if that was the case or not. Maybe it was. It didn’t really matter, she thought. Jack had been so excited to use something other than a “boring old pole.”
She wrinkled up her nose as they impaled a poor worm on the hook. A slimy, disgusting worm. Lindsey must have seen her face and she laughed.
“Sure you don’t want to join us?”
“No, no. I’m fine over here with the dogs.” Her job assignment was to keep Barney and Max out of the water. That was proving harder to do than she thought.
Lindsey had shown Jack how to cast the rod before they put the worm on. Now, Lindsey stood back, offering tips to him as he held the rod over his shoulder, then flung it out. The hook and bobber landed only a foot from the riverbank.
“Release your thumb a little earlier,” Lindsey instructed.
Jack reeled the line back in and tried it again with the same result.
“You do it,” Jack said, handing it to Lindsey.
“Watch me.”
Hannah’s eyes were on Lindsey as were Jack’s. She was tall and graceful, and with only a flick of her wrist, the worm—and hook—and bobber landed far out in the river. She reeled it in a little, then handed it to Jack.
“It’s in a nice, deep hole there,” she said. “Just let it sit for a while and see if you get a bite.”
“What are you hoping to catch?” Hannah asked.
Lindsey walked over and sat down beside her. “There are some nice bass in here,” she said. “And catfish. Although I have better luck with catfish in late evenings.”
“You fish a lot?”
“I used to. When…well, when the family was here, my nephews loved to fish. We would get up early, before dawn, and come out here,” Lindsey said. “Some mornings, all we’d hit were perch but as Jack will tell you, they’re fun to catch too.”
“Yes, you caught perch in the creek,” she said. “Using corn?”
“Yeah. They’ll hit on just about anything.”
“My bobber’s moving!”
Lindsey got back up and went over to him. “Hold it steady, don’t jerk it.” Before she could answer, the bobber disappeared under water. “Okay…pop it up!”
Jack jerked on the rod but wasn’t turning the reel. The tip of the rod bent and he held it up to Lindsey.
“Take it!”
Lindsey grabbed the rod and began reeling the line back in. Hannah sat up excitedly as she saw a fish struggling on the end of the line. Jack jumped up and down beside Lindsey as she pulled the fish on shore. Hannah clapped as Lindsey held it up. It wasn’t as large as she’d imagined it would be, but Jack was beaming.
“I caught one! I caught one!”
“Here…hold him up like this,” Lindsey instructed. “I’ll get a picture.”
She pulled her cell phone out and captured a smiling little boy as he held his prize. Hannah watched their interaction, again noting how close they seemed to be. Jack and Lindsey were completely at ease with each other, evidence of how much time they’d spent together this summer. Her eyes were drawn to Lindsey’s hands as she carefully unhooked the fish from the line, then gently put him back in the water. She was surprised that Jack didn’t protest, wanting to keep his catch, but it was as if he already knew that Lindsey would release it.
Again, they baited a hook, and this time, when Jack attempted to throw the line, it went out a little farther than his earlier attempts. Apparently, not far enough, though, because Lindsey instructed him to reel it in and try again. The next attempt was much better, and Lindsey tousled the hair on his head affectionately before coming back to join her.
“He’s getting the hang of it.”
“You’re very patient,” Hannah said.
Lindsey shrugged. “Had lots of practice.”
Hannah’s expression softened. “The rod and reel…did it belong to one of your nephews?”
Lindsey looked over at her, meeting her gaze. “Yeah. I had gotten it for Eli—he was seven—for Christmas.” Sadness settled over Lindsey’s face. “He never got to use it,” she said quietly.
An “I’m sorry” was about to spring to Hannah’s lips, but she kept it inside. It would
be meaningless. Lindsey seemed to sense her hesitation.
“I’m really glad Jack is getting to use it.”
Hannah smiled at her. “Me too.” She looked at Jack now, who was sitting on a rock, his gaze fixed on the bobber. “After his dad died…well, he kinda withdrew, became very quiet. Introverted, almost. I didn’t know what I was expecting, really, when we moved here. Like I said before, we needed a change.” She looked at Lindsey. “I had thought his solitary outings to the creek were helping him. He became more like his old self.” She smiled. “I now know that it was you who was helping him.”
Lindsey gave her an almost apologetic look. “Jack was helping me.”
“Lindsey…nothing’s happening,” Jack called.
Lindsey got up. “Okay. Reel it in. Let’s try a different spot.”
They spent over an hour moving slowly along the river. Jack caught three more fish, but they were all smaller than the first one. The last was a little perch that Jack took off the hook by himself. The sun was higher and it was getting warmer by the minute. When Lindsey asked if they were ready for a swim, Hannah readily agreed.
They put the fishing stuff up and walked back to the Mule, then drove along the river, back toward the cabin—her parents’ place—and the deck. The dogs were happy to be allowed back in the water, and as soon as Jack lowered the tailgate on the Mule, they jumped off and splashed in.
As before, Jack opened up the metal case and pulled out a noodle, then he paused.
“There are two of them,” he said, holding up a fanny floater.
“Yeah…I brought one down for your mom,” Lindsey said before looking at her. “Unless you’d rather have a tube.”
Hannah smiled. “Thank you. No, I’ll use the fanny floater.”
Jack tossed all three items into the water, then was the first to strip off his shirt and grab the rope. In an instant, he was flying over the river before splashing into the water with a childlike yell.