Entrusted (Adirondack Surrender Series Book 1)

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Entrusted (Adirondack Surrender Series Book 1) Page 10

by Julie Arduini


  “I’ll be a third wheel barging in on your family day.”

  “Nonsense. Will’s going, too.”

  I grin. “Is he now?”

  “Funny, Jenna. For me, it’s a more, the merrier thing. If you want to tease me, do you want to talk about the embrace Noah walked in on between you and Ben?”

  Ouch. “Okay, you got me. Can you pick me up? I’m not quite ready.”

  Thirty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, followed by Noah’s voice. “Hey, Miss Jenna. Ready to go?”

  I return my humidity-resistant hairspray bottle back on the bathroom sink and sprint to the door.

  Will’s hands are cupped to the screen, his face pressed against the mesh covering. “Hurry up, Anderson. We want to arrive before the steamboat lunch cruise leaves.”

  Goosebumps pop up on my bare arms. Did I just hear boat?

  Noah seems as surprised as me. “Mom, you told me about how Jenna got sick all over everything. I’m not standing near her.”

  Carla rolls her eyes. “That was different, and you both know it. Ben was showboating. Pun intended. This kind is laid-back and relaxing. We’re going. All of us.”

  I pretend to sit by Noah once we board, just to see his reaction. He shakes his head and stands, ready to join another table if he has to. Will shuffles down the bench so I can sit by Carla, and Noah relents and takes Will’s place.

  “Can we enjoy the deli sandwiches and salad now?” Carla asks, with a wink.

  There’s a plump piece of cucumber on the tray I’m ready to attack with my fork when I see someone familiar walk past. Kyle wears khaki shorts and a red polo. He has a blonde on one arm and a drink in the opposite hand. Carla notices him at the same time and throws her menu over her face. I follow her lead.

  “Who’s that?” I whisper, holding the menu against the side of my head.

  Will leans into my menu. “Kyle.”

  I slap him with the menu, and Noah breaks out in a loud laugh.

  Carla shoots Will, Noah, and me a dirty look. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say his sister. Not like anyone with half a brain would go out with him. His daddy arranges a lot of meetings for him with business partners’ daughters. That has to be what’s going on. I don’t envy him at all. The pressure to be a successful Swarthmore will never be more than the proverbial carrot on the stick. Daddy is never pleased, so Kyle keeps striving.”

  “How do you know all this?” I put the menu down.

  “I’m a sheriff.” Carla bites her lip then sighs. “Okay, I confess. When I style hair, people talk.” She returns her menu to the table. “Speaking of tresses, yours is growing. Did you want me to give you a trim or do you want to grow it out for braids or ponytails?”

  Please let Carla be kidding about touching my hair. “Can I plead the fifth and refuse to answer?”

  After the luncheon cruise, a much better experience than my ride with Ben, we disembark. We check out the town shops, and I see why Dora Parks is so concerned about Speculator Falls turning into another Lake George Village. It definitely caters to tourists.

  Inside our third t-shirt store, Noah pokes his mom’s arm. “Can we stay for the fireworks?”

  My eyes light up at the mention of a Lake George display. “It’s a great idea, Carla. The thought of watching them over the same waters men sailed during the French Indian War sounds amazing.”

  Will, Carla, and Noah fail in their attempts to stifle their laughter.

  “You’re such a tourist.” Noah chuckles as we pile back into Carla’s car.

  The darker it gets, the more my thoughts drift back to Speculator Falls. Was Shirley enjoying her day off? Were Fred and Janice with their grandchildren? Sara made it clear she was going to spend her day in the garden and on John’s boat. Would Ben join her once he finished work, or perhaps he’d pilot the boat and go crazy fast until she hung over the side like I did? As I try to picture it, my cell phone rings. I pick it up. It’s Sara’s number.

  “Sara, are you okay?”

  “It’s Ben. My phone died. I, uh, just wondered what you’re doing.”

  I press the phone tight to my ear, preparing for the explosives to go off at any moment. “Waiting for the fireworks.”

  “Not at your house, right? Cuz it’s kind of woodsy there.”

  I can’t tell if he’s being funny, deadpan, or trying to feel me out for a clue of where I really am. “Nope, not at my house. Why? What are you doing?”

  “I thought I’d see if you want to watch the festivities. They’re in Piseco this year, and you can see them great from my porch. Grandma is here, too.”

  It’s not hard to imagine the top of the mountain and the view of the surrounding villages and Piseco Lake. I can see it all in my mind, even though I’m ninety minutes away. “I wish I could, but I’m in Lake George.”

  I start to say more, but I’m cut off by Will shouting over me about how the lightshow is ready to start.

  Ben’s voice drops down an octave. “Well that’s a shame. I’m sure he’s showing you a beautiful time.”

  Noah, Will, and Carla continue chatting away in my background. “I’m sorry. I’m having trouble hearing you. What did you say?”

  As soon as I finish, a rocket booms, and I can’t hear a thing Ben might be saying, or not. I hear garbling, but I can’t make out all his words.

  “Just be careful, Jenna—Kyle—wish you weren’t spending—him.”

  Despite the confusing message, there’s a firework going off in my heart. Excited that Ben seems to be concerned, but still entertaining that still, small voice that says Kyle might not be my worst enemy. He’s shady, no doubt. But given how Ben has a hold on my emotions and has the key to my future at the senior center with his councilman role, my biggest foe might turn out to be Ben.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As much as I don’t want to admit it, Carla’s right. My hair is in need of some serious help. I’m the type of girl that if my hair is having a bad day, it affects everything. Time to visit the library, go online, and research contemporary salons where I can get my hair done. This might mean a trip to Saratoga Springs, or even Albany.

  Bart’s the first to greet me. “Hello, Jenna. What brings you by?” He has his book cart at his side.

  “Thought I’d borrow the computer and do some research.”

  “Great. We might be small, but I’d like to think of our little library as the gateway to the world with all the options here. Yell if you need help.” He shuffles a couple steps. “Well, maybe not too loud.” He winks.

  Once I find a terminal and start typing, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I swivel around to see Carla.

  “What’cha up to?” She leans in closer to the monitor.

  I move back to hide the screen. “Oh, some research. Boring, actually.” Please don’t let Professor Bart hear me.

  “You’re jumpy.” She squints to see the text my body can’t cover. “What kind of research? Is it for work?”

  My hands fly to my hips. “Is this an interrogation?”

  She tries to give a stern look but fails. “No, but it should be. I know you’re looking for a real place to do your hair. I think you should let go of the city look and let it grow. You’d look darling with shoulder length hair, or longer.”

  “Done up in a boring ponytail everyday…” My words are out before I can catch them.

  She sighs. “That’s my style for my day job. I love playing with long hair. Maybe it’s therapy after being an only child with bowl cuts. Anyway, let’s change the topic. I ran into Ben at the gas station. He got the impression you were in Lake George with Kyle.”

  I slap my forehead. “That’s what I thought he said. I couldn’t hear him over the noise.”

  Carla rolls her eyes. “You mean us talking.”

  I nod. “There was that, and the fireworks. Odd he’d mention it to you.”

  Carla holds my shoulders and moves me a pace to the side to reveal the computer screen. She groans and hits exit. “He’s concerned
. Kind of like I am—thinking you’re going for the big city haircut instead of trusting your friend.”

  “Carla, I want the fancy coloring that doesn’t come from a box you’d buy at JB’s.”

  “Let me color it.” Carla looks straight into my eyes.

  The memory of Pastor Craig mentioning what a woman of blind faith I am returns. I don’t see me handing my hair over to the sheriff, albeit the best friend I have.

  “I don’t know. I’m pretty particular.” I confess.

  She grabs my hand and leads me out. “Noah’s helping Will at Sara’s dock today. It’s just us girls. Besides, I’ll tell you the latest, and it has to do with your delivery driver.”

  One mention of Will and seeing the Cheshire grin on Carla’s face, I’m putty in her hands. Four hours later, I’m holding a mirror, saying nothing.

  “Ahem. I watch Access Hollywood, I know what’s in. This is hot. Embrace it.”

  I take a deep breath and exhale a slow stream of air.

  Carla paces.

  “I have one question for you, Sheriff Rowling.” I give her my best intimidating glare.

  “You hate it. You hate me. What is it?” Carla’s voice squeaks.

  “When are you going to hand in your badge and open up a shop? My hair looks great. It’s shocking, but I love it. Ditch the ponytails and start really doing hair.”

  Carla’s eyes fill with tears. My chocolate color with red lowlights is gone. My new do boasts a darker, not quite black, with auburn lowlights. She brushes a tear with the back of her hand. “For the first time, I can picture what you just said. I love when someone lets me work with their hair. Maybe this is a God nudge, like Pastor Craig talked about.”

  I leave Carla’s in a great mood. Will wants to take her on a date, and she wants to talk to him about her possible career change. Her grin seems permanent, and I’m happy for her. I’m not ready to go home, so I drive to Sara’s.

  She opens the door and places her hands on her chest. Sara grins. “Jenna Anderson, you’re full of surprises. Always wonderful ones, though.” She puts her hands down and swings the door wider for me to enter. Sara closes it and gestures for me to follow her to the Florida room, where she has a stack of papers on her glass table. “Ah, my mess. I guess I’m literal. Finishing up my winter home business in the Florida room. My neighbors in my Lakeland development want to know when I’m coming down.”

  Her Florida life, what the seniors call being a snowbird, is a new discussion for me. I can’t imagine her anywhere but Speculator Falls. “You have plans to leave soon?”

  “Why would I go now? There’s no way I could leave the tall tree breezes for the ghastly heat they deal with in the summer. In fact, I was about to visit the cabin in the woods. Care to join me?”

  “I’d love to.”

  After Ben’s house I have all sorts of Thomas Kinkade inspired cottage type scenes dancing through my head, but our drive takes care of that fantasy. Sara navigates through trails that are dried mud ruts.

  “The roads are better than they used to be. Paper company coming in for logging helped create roads.”

  “I can’t imagine this being an improvement.” I hold the truck bar above to steady against the bumps.

  “I drove this all the time. The hunting lodge, about the size of a closet, was something John built before meeting me. It’s basic, but there’s charm to it, at least for me. We lived there while he built our home. Even after we married we’d visit with the girls and keep a journal. Every once in a while I like to go back and check on things.”

  “It’s so isolated out here.”

  “A lot of people around here sold their cabins and land to the paper company, but we couldn’t. Their representatives were gracious enough to allow us road access to get to our cabin. It’s a nice hideaway.”

  Sara puts the Suburban in park and announces we’re five miles deep into the woods. A shanty stands back from where our vehicle rests, with a small, uneven porch leading to a rickety door. A wood pile sits to the side and about three hundred feet back is a slope leading down to a creek. Sara fishes a key out of her glove compartment and heads to the front door.

  I’m a few steps behind her. “You need to lock up here? I didn’t even think anyone latched their main home doors.”

  Sara wrestles with the lock. With a combination turn of the key and shove to the door, she’s in. “I wish we didn’t have to. The cabins are especially vulnerable, because you get outsiders who come in to hunt. They drink and get goofy. I’ve had three break-ins in the last two years. Hunters can be worse than bears.”

  I look for a light switch and realize there is none. A lantern sits in the middle of the crudely made wooden table. This is a man’s man cabin. Looking around just makes me want to grow a beard and utter masculine grunts.

  Sara shows me the wooden steps to the loft where the men used to sleep. “Oh, the memories up there. Ben spending the night as a teen, so excited to hunt with his grandpa that he never got much sleep. The nights where the two would try to outdo each other with a scary story.”

  “So, where’s the journal?” I question, finding a bottle of Jack Daniels liquor on top of a cooler. I pick the bottle up and look at Sara. I can’t imagine any of the Bivins’ family drinking alcohol, let alone this hardcore stuff.

  She giggles. “The contents in that bottle cleans glass better than any product on the market. You just have to keep the front door open when you clean.” She starts lifting objects near the cooler. “Let me see where the journal is—well, right in front of me. Want to sign it?”

  The five subject notebook looks ten years old. Sara says there are a few notebooks floating around from previous years. I scan through a couple pages, the curiosity too much for me to ignore. I find Sara’s entry from the first time she visits after John’s death. The page has wrinkles and bumps.

  I should mark the date as we’ve always done, but this is my first time here without John. When he died, time stopped. The only marks I leave today are my tears.

  Then I flip back to the beginning, because I can’t bear to think about her heartbreak. Later, I find an entry from Trish Maxwell sharing that Ben took her out for the day and they landed here. The date is around the time Will remembers her leaving for good.

  I’ll never get used to this musty smell. Ben says this place is like a sanctuary to him. For me, it’s like a prison.

  Finally, I take the pencil, write the date, and pen an entry.

  Thank you for sharing your life with me. It’s breathtaking to be here.

  I hand the journal back, and Sara leaves it near the cooler. She offers to show me around outside. We walk past the outhouse and head to the woodshed. She unlocks the door, reaches inside, and produces a second key.

  “You’re welcome to visit anytime, just make sure you let me know. One wrong turn and you could be in the woods for a week. I’ll sketch you a map when we get back.” She winks.

  On the return drive to her place, I tell her all about Carla’s hair plans and her date with Will. Sara shares my excitement, and by the time we settle back in her Florida room, she asks me about the prom. I’m about to answer when the front door slams.

  Ben enters the Florida room a few seconds after the bang, his skin flushed a baby bottom sunburned pink. He gives his grandmother a kiss on the cheek. “Prom? Aren’t you both a little old to be going to the prom?”

  She reaches for his rosy flesh. “Oh, Ben, I see you got outside for a change. What did you do with your day off?”

  Ben pulls up a seat next to me. “I worked on the dock with Will and Noah. That is until Will got a call from Carla.” He hesitates to look at me. “The two were out of there as soon as he hung up. Seems like there is a budding romance between our sheriff and delivery driver. She said she had big news. Can anyone guess what it might be?”

  I can’t tell if Ben is teasing, asking, or ready to hand me a lecture. Sara gives me a feigned look of innocence with a shrug directed her grandson’s way. “Tell us, dear.


  “Carla’s all excited to learn more about going to beauty school and opening up her own shop. Someone gave her the idea to ditch her full time job with benefits to chase a dream.”

  I look at the floor, scared to glance Ben’s way.

  Sara pipes up. “Good for her. Sounds like she paid attention to Pastor Craig’s sermon.”

  “Uh huh.” I look up, and Ben’s focus is centered on me.

  Before I can explain, he speaks. “This might surprise you, but I love the idea. By the way, your hair looks really, uh, good.” He clears his throat. “But Carla’s life is more complicated than that. She has a son she has to take care of. She just can’t go off and forget about him and her responsibilities.”

  I want to protest, but Sara beats me to it. “Who says she’s going off? She’s doing research. There are ways she can do this and not put her family in jeopardy. You need to have some faith, Ben. Think outside the box you’re trying to put her in.”

  Now Ben is looking at the floor. “If Carla doesn’t succeed, she loses everything.”

  “She fails if she doesn’t try.”

  The volley between them is mesmerizing. He chuckles, and throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t know why I try. I’ll never win against your wisdom.”

  Sara nods. “I’d be worried if you didn’t have concerns when it comes to people you care about. But fear isn’t from God, and if you cave to it, I’m going to speak up about it.”

  I stand up, preparing to head home, when Ben returns his focus to me. “Wait, I’m not done with you. The words faith, fear, concerns, safe, and speak up about it bring me to two other words you’re familiar with.”

  I bite my lip as I try to figure out what it is he’s talking about. I figure it’s senior center related when he surprises me. “I don’t mean to be in your business, but I have concerns about you and Kyle Swarthmore.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kyle’s ears must be burning after Ben and I talk about him. Kyle’s in my office first thing in the morning. Since spying him in Lake George on the Fourth, I can’t help but notice the stubble beginning to grow on his face.

 

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