A spark flared in his flint-colored eyes. He set his empty beer glass on the counter with a clunk. “No shit? Well, lady, I’ve known you what, two or three weeks? You’ve beat the shit out of my new rig, your ex-husband’s burned to death under what some people might think are mysterious circumstances and you’ve dragged me into some kind of feud between you and a dude twice your size. Hell, he’s twice my size. TV doesn’t have a soap opera better than that.”
Her eyes bugged. “Shut up!” she stage-whispered. “People can hear you.”
After a few seconds, he grinned. A teasing light came in his eyes. “Such a hypocrite. Sexy as hell, but still a hypocrite.”
She gasped. “Why are you harassing me? I haven’t dragged you into anything. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Look, Ted thinks a lot of you. I think a lot of Ted. If you’re a friend of his, I’d like you to be my friend, too.” His normally husky voice softened to something that sent a thread of warmth to unusual places. “Maybe I’d like you to be more than a friend.”
A tiny little panic danced around in her stomach. What could she do about him? Well, one thing she could do was go home and leave him here. Maybe she couldn’t keep him out of Carlton’s. It was a public business and he was, after all, a customer, but she could keep him away from her house. “Hm. Is that so?”
She paused, crafting a reply that would shut him up for good. “I’m going home, Mr. Hawkins, but let me leave you with this. A friend of Ted Benson’s might become a friend of mine, but there is no possibility that a friend of Cindy Evans could ever enjoy that privilege. Frankly, I can’t tell in which camp you fall.”
He sat there blinking at her for a few beats, then slid his empty glass across the bar to where she stood. “Okay, goddamit, I give up. But let me leave you with something I just heard from the horse’s mouth. Godzilla, who you were entertaining a couple of weeks ago? He just told Jack over at the building supply he’ll be cutting trees in Soldier Meadows before the month’s out. Now that didn’t mean much to me, but I’m guessing it’s real important to you.”
The bottom fell out of her stomach. “What else did he say?”
“Other than saying you’re crazy, that’s it.”
Alex’s blood rushed. What had happened during her absence? She had to get home to her voice mail and email. She ignored Doug Hawkins, stuffed her papers under her arm, hung her purse on her shoulder, then spoke to Estelle who was busy at the other end of the bar. "Estelle, call if you need me.”
When she turned back and started to round the end of the bar, she saw that his eyes were locked on her. “Can’t take the heat, huh? Running off to hide in the palace?”
She drew a deep breath. “You’re blocking my path, Mr. Hawkins.”
“Want my opinion, sweet lips? This fight with Godzilla’s ratcheting up. Just for the record, I’m putting my money on you. I believe you’re meaner than he is.”
As he stepped out of her way, she shot him the most venomous look she could summon, walked past him and left.
Chapter 13
The first week of August, days were still hot and sunny, but nights had cooled down considerably and Doug had started sleeping under a blanket. Maybe he really would be building a fire in the fireplace by mid-September, just as the grocery store clerk had said.
He had sprayed primer and pale gray paint onto the workshop’s new plywood walls and declared it finished. He felt as if he should break a champagne bottle across the double doors.
Inside the house, he had completed demolition of the wall between the living room and dining room and patched and installed new Sheetrock where necessary. The result was the light and open effect for which he had hoped. A new kitchen floor and cabinets came next.
Though pleased with his accomplishments, his spirits had been low all week. Alex had handed him his hat again in Carlton’s and for some damn reason, that bothered him.
He tried to elevate his mood by reminding himself of what his painful past had taught him about surviving the battle of the sexes. Relationships with the fairer sex had to be viewed like streetcars. Soon as you rode one far enough, you abandoned it and waited for another. And sometimes, for one reason or another, you just never got on board.
Alex fell into the latter category. She evidently had no interest in being so much as friends with him, much less anything else. For the sake of his pride and manhood, he could make only one decision about her and that was to never set himself up for her rebuff again. The last thing he wanted was to be like Ted.
Besides distancing himself from her physically, he resolved he would stop looking out his kitchen window, trying to pinpoint her house on the side of Wolf Mountain. He would no longer seek the specks of light on the dark mountainside before he went to bed, would cease wondering what she could be doing all alone in that mansion that must have at least twelve or fifteen rooms. Most nights, the lights had been there and on the nights they hadn’t been, he figured she was still in town at Carlton’s and he had actually waited for the lights to appear. No more of that nonsense.
But for all of those good intentions, he couldn’t keep from wondering, with winter just around the corner, how much longer would she stay in Callister?
Finally, one evening while channel surfing on TV, dawning came to him, and he knew the reason he couldn’t seem to purge her from his thoughts. If Alex McGregor was anything, she was a warrior, with the instincts of an alley fighter. In a complex way, she fit his criteria. He had never liked helpless, simpering women. The feeling was a by-product of knowing hookers who had drifted in and out of his brother’s bar, women who hadn’t been able to manage their lives and who were smothered with problems they, for various reasons, hadn’t been capable of solving. He liked women who rose above life, took it by the neck, shook it hard and dealt with it. Like he did.
Annoyed at her, himself and the whole situation, he avoided town all week and the discipline improved his attitude. He used the early morning hours for working on his house, but he quit when the temperature rose and devoted afternoons to the work he had agreed to do for Bob Culpepper.
Thursday morning found him splitting pine rounds he had cut and hauled in last week. He worked straight through lunch and by late afternoon had finished filling the wood shed. Worn out, he was ready to call it a day. An engine caught his attention and he looked up his driveway, saw Ted's truck coming nearer. He waved, set down his splitting maul and walked over as Ted came to a stop behind the Silverado and climbed out. “Whatcha doing?” he called out the window.
“Firewood. Hard work, but I’d hate for cold weather to catch me without it.” He began picking up scraps of wood. When he straightened, he realized Ted was staring at his body. Everyone stared when they saw his bare torso. "Did you work today?" Doug asked, hoping to distract him.
“Damn, Doug, those are bad scars,” Ted said.
“Yeah.” Doug grabbed his T-shirt off a log and pulled it over his head. "Want a beer?” He started for the back door.
Ted followed. “Naw. A friend of mine wants to feed me supper. Mary Jane Masters. She wants to meet you, so you’re invited.”
“Date, huh? Cool. But I'm not gonna barge in.”
“It’s not a date. It’s just supper. I told her I was coming out to get you, so get cleaned up and let’s go.” Ted made himself comfortable on the sofa and clicked on TV.
To Doug, a meal cooked by someone besides himself sounded great and breakfast had been a long time ago. He hurried through a shower and shampoo, put on clean jeans and a knit shirt. As they left his house, he grabbed a chilled bottle of Chablis from the refrigerator. Walking toward Ted’s truck, he asked, “So who’s Mary Jane?”
“Just a woman I know.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard you say you had a girlfriend.”
“She’s not really a girlfriend, as such. Just a friend. She’s a widow. Her husband got killed a few years back. Rolled a log skidder down a mountain on a logging job over in Oregon. She’s from an old
-time family around here. Schoolteacher. Could probably find you a date if you’re interested. There’s some single teachers and she knows all of them.”
Oh, Jesus. If there was anything Doug didn’t want, it was a matchmaking female trying to fix him up. “No, thanks. I don’t have time for it.”
“Just a thought. Winter nights get awful long and cold around here.”
Doug softened his refusal of the offer with a laugh. “I’ve got good blankets.”
Then they were in Ted’s truck, heading for town. They soon reached the city limits. “Mary Jane lives in town,” Ted said. “I hate it. Every time I go to her house, everybody in Callister knows about it. Makes it damn hard to spend the night.”
****
“It's about time I got to meet you, Doug Hawkins.” A petite dynamo with a turned up nose, a brilliant smile and short, brown hair pumped Doug’s right hand. Energy and cheerfulness projected from her. “I've heard so many stories about you, I feel like I know you as well as I know Ted.”
With a huge smile, she took the bottle of wine Doug offered. “Oohh, Chablis. That’s so nice of you. How’d you know we’re having chicken?”
She stood on her tiptoes and smacked Ted on the lips, then looked into his eyes with warmth and affection. That she was head-over-heels in love with him stuck out all over. “Missed you today. Wish you’d been with us.”
Ted returned her kiss. “Me, too. How was shopping?”
Two tow-headed boys, maybe seven and eight, bounded into the room and embraced Ted’s legs. He reached down and picked up the smallest one and Doug was struck by how natural and easy Ted looked with one of Mary Jane’s kids perched on his arm and his other arm around Mary Jane’s waist. The boy Ted was holding hugged him.
“Boys, go watch TV until we’re ready to eat,” their mother told them. The older kid bounced out of the room toward a TV set in the living room. The one on Ted’s arm squirmed to the floor and followed.
“Boy, they’re wound up tonight,” Ted said on a laugh. “They give you any trouble today?”
“No more than usual.” She smiled up at him. “You’ve really spoiled them. All day long, they kept saying, ‘Ted lets us do this or do that’. Then I had Mother talking non-stop, too. I just concentrated on keeping my sanity until she got out of the car.”
Doug couldn’t keep from watching the silent communication that passed between Ted and her. He could see they had more than an ordinary friendship bond and felt a flicker of envy.
Ted released her with a chuckle. “I’ll go give them a lecture.” He started for the living room. Doug walked behind him and looked into the room as Ted sat down on the sofa. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”
The younger boy rose from the floor and snuggled up beside him. “You guys gave your mother a bad time today, huh?”
“We didn’t mean to,” the kid said.
The older boy plopped down on Ted’s opposite side. “Remember what we talked about?” Ted said to him. “About you boys being the men of the family? Instead of making things hard for your mom, you should help her out, take care of her.”
“I know,” the boy said, morose. “It was Grandma’s fault.”
Ted put his arms around both kids and the three of them began laughing at the TV program.
“He’s so good with my kids,” Mary Ann said behind him and he turned toward her. He caught the wistful look in her eyes. Then, with a sigh she turned away and started for the kitchen.
Doug walked behind her to the kitchen where a simmering pot filled the room with a delicious aroma and an ambience of well-being. “Can I help you do something?”
“Sure.” She smiled and handed him a bowl. “You can dish up the chicken. Promise not to judge my recipe. Ted told me you’re an outstanding cook.”
The kitchen table was set with matching dishes, place mats and napkins and a centerpiece of fresh-cut flowers. “Table looks nice,” Doug told her.
“When Ted said he’d bring you, I drug out the good dishes. And those daisies are out of my mom’s flower bed.” She smiled up at him again. “Well, I guess we’re ready.” She went to the living room door and called Ted and her sons.
The welcome and the homey feeling touched Doug. The various apartments he had rented over the years and even the condo he had owned had always felt temporary, like camping out. They hadn’t included a pretty table set with the “good dishes.” He intended to turn his old farmhouse on twenty acres into a home that felt as comfortable and welcoming as the one in which he was a guest tonight.
“This was delicious,” he said after dinner. Urged on by Mary Jane, he had eaten more than his share. “I haven't had homemade chicken and dumplings in years. Why don't you marry this woman, Ted? She can cook.”
Ted’s cheeks turned red, but Mary Jane was unabashed. “I keep asking him the same thing myself. But I can't get past the witch on Wolf Mountain. I’m the winter girlfriend.”
Ted gave her a look. “Knock it off, Mary Jane. That’s not true.”
Uh-oh. Alex McGregor had been discussed before.
“Doug, you need to get a tag for Steelhead,” Ted said, pointedly switching gears. “The season starts the end of September. Pete will take us fishing on the Big Salmon in his boat. Nobody runs the river better than Pete. He’s real safety-conscious, too.”
Doug watched Mary Jane's face. All he saw was resignation. If Ted's scolding and the quick change of subject had embarrassed her, it didn't show. “Great,” he said to Ted. “That’ll be fun.”
Mary Jane sent her boys off to do their homework and the three adults visited at the table for a while. Soon Ted said it was getting late, stood up and began to clear the table. Doug helped. When the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, he walked outside leaving Ted and Mary Jane a private good-night.
“She’s crazy about you,” Doug said, as they backed out of her driveway. “So are her kids. What did she mean, winter girlfriend?”
“It’s a joke, sort of, but at the same time, it isn’t. She bitches about the time I spend with Alex in the summer months. She thinks we’d get married if it wasn’t for Alex.”
“Would you?”
Seconds of silence passed before Ted answered. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“How much time do you spend with Alex?”
“I usually drop in on her a couple of times a week if she's around. Or I see her in Carlton’s or she comes by the office. Sometimes she cooks supper, but mostly, if we get together, we go out for dinner somewhere.”
“And you’re still trying to convince me you two aren’t sleeping together?”
“No! We’re not.” Ted gave a nervous laugh. “Mary Jane’s the only woman I see that way. I don't think Alex is interested in sex. Or men.”
“Don’t kid yourself. She works at looking good. She—” Doug stopped himself. He had almost revealed more than he wanted to. “I just think a woman who looks like she does is not disinterested in sex or men.”
“I imagine being married to ol’ Charlie left her with a lot of issues,” Ted said. “Might take some time to work through them. That’s not what I’m after anyway. She needs a friend. I'm the only one she's got. Here, anyway.”
“It doesn’t bother you how much Mary Jane resents her?”
Ted sighed. “I might marry Mary Jane one of these days. But until I'm ready to give up my friendship with Alex, I couldn't. It wouldn't be fair. And besides that, Mary Jane would never just lay it down and let it alone. I’m just gonna wait a while and see what happens.”
They passed the city limits sign, headed for Doug’s house, but Ted didn’t pick up speed. With the windows rolled down, the cool night air filled the cab with scents of pine and sage. Totally relaxed, Doug rested his elbow on the open window ledge.
“Man, smell that pine,” Ted said, drawing in a deep sniff. “God, I love it.”
Doug chuckled. “The fresh air does smell good.”
“And look at those stars. Can’t begin to count ’em.”
“Yep. Y
ou don’t see stars in Los Angeles.” Doug scanned the sky, but his mind veered to something else. “Tell me something, Ted. Why haven’t you ever gotten married?”
Ted’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Hell, I don’t know. For one thing, my job’s made it hard to meet women. I’ve always worked in these little towns like Callister. Most of the women are married and the ones that aren’t, well…Until I came here, the only time I’ve lived anywhere longer than two years was Nevada. Most of the gals I met down there were hookers.”
“How long you think you’ll be here?”
“’Til I finish my career. About five more years and I’ll have my twenty in.”
“Then what?”
“Not going back to Nebraska, that’s for sure. Nothing to do there except watch Mom take off on another trip. Now that Dad’s gone, all she does is travel.”
Doug remembered Ted’s parents. Ted’s mother had been the closest thing to a mother Doug had known. She had done her best to hone the rough edges of a boy who grew up in an environment where downright coarseness wasn’t out of place. To his regret, he hadn’t learned of Ted’s father’s death until a phone conversation with Ted a few weeks ago.
“I like this town,” Ted went on. “The people here would give you the shirts off their backs. You don’t have to worry if you forget to lock your front door. The kids are safe in school. Fishing and hunting are great. It’s a good place.”
Doug did a calculation in his head. “You’ll be what, forty-three? That’s young to quit working. What’ll you do?”
“Work for a ranch, I’m thinking. There’s half a dozen big time ranchers around here with out-of-town owners. They’re usually looking for somebody like me. Good ranch managers don’t grow on trees and with all the experience I’ve got with the government? Hell, I know one of ’em will hire me, if for no other reason, just to interpret the rules.”
Doug grinned and looked at Ted as memories flooded into his mind. Even before they were teenagers, Ted had worn cowboy boots and had a horse at his grandfather’s farm. “You always were a cowboy.”
The Love of a Stranger Page 13