She looked up at him and blinked back tears. When she spoke her voice sounded muffled—probably because she was trying not to cry. Or sneeze. “I had a fish on the line. I…I wanted you to watch me bring it in.”
He exhaled sharply, then placed his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
Karen sniffled, more than ready to abandon the whole venture, but Matt wouldn’t hear of it. Against her will she found herself standing on the edge of the flowing water less than five minutes later. Sneezing. It seemed to take an eternity to attract another trout.
Then, suddenly, she experienced the same sense of exhilaration as a fish nibbled at her bait. This time she was ready when the trout encountered the hook. She gripped the fishing pole with both hands, prepared to catch a trout or die trying.
“That’s it, honey!” Matt hollered, his excited voice carried on the wind. “Give the line more slack,” he ordered.
Karen had no idea what he was talking about, but she must have done something right, because she didn’t lose the fish. Her arms ached with the strain, but she held on as the fish leapt and fought.
Matt was there to lift her prize out of the water, using the net. “He’s a beauty,” her ex-husband told her with a proud grin.
“He sure is.” Karen gazed at the fish fondly as it flopped around in the net.
Matt deftly removed the hook from the trout’s mouth and was about to place it in the basket when Karen stopped him.
“Put him back,” she said.
“Back?” Matt’s eyes held a look that said he must’ve misunderstood her.
“He’s too beautiful to eat. And too brave and noble.”
“Karen…you’re not serious.”
“I mean it, Matt!” she cried. “I don’t want him killed.” Not after the way he’d struggled to live. Not after she’d looked him in the eye.
Matt did as she asked, but he wasn’t pleased.
From that point forward, their afternoon went downhill. Karen thought wryly that from her vantage point there was nowhere else for it to go. By dinnertime she was tired, hungry and in no mood to commune with nature. She wanted dinner, a hot bath and her own bed, in that order. No luck on any score, however.
Her contribution to dinner was a disaster. Fortunately, Matt had caught a couple of trout, which he cleaned while Karen prepared the vegetables. She dumped a can of beans in a pot, then sliced some potatoes to fry in a pan. By accident, she charred them. Smoke got in her eyes, blinding her, and she coughed and hacked. When she could see the potatoes again, they resembled dried cow chips. And the beans had become a mass of soggy lumps. To her relief, Matt took over then, and handled the frying of the fish. The result was delicious—even though Karen’s misery didn’t allow her to truly enjoy it.
Matt’s festive mood had dissipated by the time they crawled into the tent that night. Tired as she was, Karen had assumed she’d immediately fall asleep. That wasn’t the case.
For one thing, the atmosphere in the tent was…intimate. If she’d understood that they were going to be holed up inside this tiny space together, she would’ve insisted they bring an additional tent.
“Something smells,” she said after a few minutes. Every time she closed her eyes, her nose was assaulted by a repugnant scent. It reminded her of skunk.
“It’s your mosquito lotion,” Matt suggested.
“No, it isn’t.”
“It is, Karen. I’ve been smelling it on you all day.”
“Fine.” She rolled away from him, presenting him with her back. Just like a man to stink up a place and then claim it was the woman’s fault. Anyway, if it was the bug repellent, which she doubted, he had it on, too. Maybe not as much as she did, but still…
Ten minutes must have passed before Matt spoke again. “I didn’t mean that as an insult,” he said gently.
“I know. I’m just tired and cranky.” What she wouldn’t give for a hot bath and clean sheets…
“You comfortable?” he asked next.
“No.” She itched and her back hurt. Matt had put an air mattress under the sleeping bag, but it was a poor substitute for a real bed. The ground was still hard.
Five minutes later she announced, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
“You went half an hour ago.”
“I can’t help it. These things happen when a woman’s pregnant. You don’t need to come with me—I’m perfectly capable of marking my own territory.”
Matt chuckled, but followed her out of the tent nonetheless. When they crept back inside, the smell of the bug repellent wasn’t as strong as it’d been earlier. Or maybe she’d just grown used to it.
Matt sprawled out atop the sleeping bag. He lay on his back, hands tucked behind his head.
Karen glanced at him, then released a slow, pent-up sigh and lay down again. She was careful to keep a respectable distance between them.
This wasn’t so bad, she decided. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the lodge, but she’d survive for one night. As long as they weren’t attacked by any wildlife.
“Are you asleep?” Matt asked.
“No.”
“Why don’t you put your head on my shoulder?”
In other circumstances Karen might have worried that Matt was planning to seduce her. She doubted it now, since she wore half a bottle of bug repellent and hadn’t bathed. Tentatively she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
That felt better. A lot better.
“I’m a disappointment to you, aren’t I?” she asked softly.
“No.”
“I don’t think I’m a good advertisement for the business. If any of the travel agents ask me about the fishing, I guess I can tell them about the one I set free.”
Matt ran his hand along her hair. “You’re doing okay.”
“Well…I do have to confess this isn’t my idea of a fun time.”
“Really?” Matt seemed surprised.
“I’m sure plenty of women enjoy camping-and-fishing trips, but unfortunately I’m not one of them.”
“But I thought—” He bit off the statement.
“What did you think?” she prodded.
He hesitated.
“Matt?”
“I thought…you’d consider this…romantic.”
“Romantic?” The man needed therapy. Or maybe just a good dictionary.
“You said you wanted to be wooed.”
“I do,” she told him, “but not like this.”
Matt pulled away from her, raising himself up on one arm. Karen was unprepared for the sudden movement, and her head hit the ground.
“Ouch.” Her eyes smarted. She rubbed the back of her head.
“Why isn’t this romantic?” Matt demanded.
“You have to ask?” She made a sweeping gesture with one hand. “My feet have developed jungle rot. I’ve been the main course and every other course for the entire mosquito population. Then you set me in this river, and when I nearly lose your precious rod and reel, you act like it’s worth more than I am!”
“I’ll have you know that reel cost five hundred dollars.”
Karen gasped at the news, but it didn’t slow her down. “Then you insist I cook dinner, probably to punish me because I had the audacity to set free a brave, beautiful trout who deserved to live.”
“Oh, please.”
“And you call this romantic?” she sat up, crossing her arms. “I call it torture.”
The silence fell like a landslide between them.
“All right,” Matt said after an awkward few minutes. “We got off to a bad start. I’ll do better next time.”
“Next time?” There was more?
“You wanted wooing, didn’t you?” He had the nerve to sound angry. “And wooing means romance, right?”
“Right.”
“Then that’s what you’re getting.”
Chapter
8
"Just look at me,” Karen told Lanni, holding
out her bare arms for inspection. A number of red, swollen mosquito bites marked her pale skin. “The bugs ate me alive.”
Lanni walked over to the library table where Abbey kept the newest hardcover releases. She chose a murder mystery Duke Porter had returned earlier that afternoon. “Are you telling me you didn’t have a good time?”
Karen shrugged, not sure how to answer her friend, who also happened to be Matt’s sister. She realized she was placing Lanni in an uncomfortable position by asking her to side against her own brother.
“I had the experience of a lifetime—and I’ve never been more miserable.” Karen sighed heavily and made a dismissive gesture. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It’s just that this whole fishing business has left me flustered. And cranky.” She sighed again. “Matt seemed to think he was doing me a favor.”
Karen began to look through the library books, grateful for an excuse to get away from the lodge. Matt had been sullen and uncommunicative ever since they’d returned. Granted, she hadn’t exactly been cheerful herself. She didn’t understand how two people who clearly loved each other could find themselves at odds over something as ridiculous as a fishing trip. Matt had been trying to share his vision of the future. And she’d…well, she’d been looking for a way to survive a night in the wilderness.
“It may not have been the vacation of your dreams,” Lanni commented, “but now you’ll be able to answer any questions the travel agents ask, won’t you?”
“I’m convinced that was just a ploy Matt used to get me to come with him,” Karen muttered. “It turns out that his sole purpose was to romance me, if you can believe it.”
Abbey came in at that moment, carrying a tray filled with tea things from the library kitchen. “I’m afraid Sawyer and Ben are to blame for that,” she said, setting the tray on the desk.
“What do they have to do with this?” Karen wanted to know.
As she poured them each a cup of tea, Abbey said, “Apparently Matt decided to, uh, seek their advice on how to win you back.”
“Ben and Sawyer?” Lanni cried. “Why, Ben’s never even been married!”
“I know,” Abbey said, attempting to conceal a smile and failing. “Frankly, Sawyer isn’t much better when it comes to romance. He tries, but I’m afraid he was a bachelor for too many years. I planned to warn you, but one thing led to another, and before I realized it you and Matt had already left.”
“He dragged me into the wilds in the name of romance.” Karen shook her head. How could Matt possibly have thought she’d consider it romantic to traipse around for two days in wet shoes, with mosquitoes, the threat of bears and no hot water?
“I’m crazy in love with Charles,” Lanni said, “and I do happen to like camping. Nothing romantic about it, though.
In fact, I can safely say Charles knows as much about romance as Matt. In other words, nothing.”
“What man really does?” Abbey murmured as she handed around a plate of homemade cookies to accompany the tea.
Karen shook her head. “I guess I was asking the impossible when I suggested Matt woo me. Instead, he woed me.” She chuckled at her own witticism.
The other women laughed, too.
“When we were first married,” Abbey said, “I could see that this romance business was going to be a problem. I love Sawyer so much—he’s a good man, a wonderful husband and father. I guess women are more sentimental than men. We occasionally want a symbol or an expression of love. I mean, I want him to understand there are certain dates that are important to me—dates I want him to remember. Not that I expect anything extravagant. The price of the gift isn’t important.”
Karen and Lanni nodded in agreement.
“It’s the thought that goes into it,” Karen added for good measure. “And knowing that he cares enough to make the effort. No woman likes to be taken for granted.”
“Exactly,” Abbey said.
“What dates did you give him?” Lanni asked. “That is, if you don’t mind my prying.”
“Not at all.” Abbey stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea. “I explained to Sawyer that Valentine’s Day, my birthday, our anniversary and Christmas were important to me. I asked that he remember me on those days.” Her eyes grew warm. “He said there wasn’t a chance on this earth that he’d forget me any day of his life—which was sweet, but not the point.”
“How’d you clue him in on buying you a gift?” Karen asked.
“Actually, Scott was the one who told him that when I said I wanted to be remembered I was really saying he should buy me something.”
“What did Sawyer say to that?”
Abbey grinned. “He took out a pen and a piece of paper and wrote down all the dates, then tucked it in his wallet.”
“So, has he remembered?” Lanni asked eagerly. “You know, this is good advice.”
“Yeah, he has.” Abbey grinned even more widely. “He’s never had to buy a woman presents before—apart from his mother—so he generally seeks advice from the kids.”
“Scott and Susan?” Karen couldn’t suppress a laugh.
“I know. At least my husband had the sense to figure out that I wouldn’t be interested in Barbie’s Playhouse or a new computer game. For my birthday this year he bought me a cookbook about homemade bread.”
“Not bad,” Karen said, impressed. She recalled that for her birthday the last year she and Matt were married, he’d bought her a lens for his camera.
“It was a thoughtful gesture,” Abbey agreed, “but he had an ulterior motive. He was mostly interested in having fresh-baked bread,” Abbey said. “Like his mother used to make.”
“What did he give you on Valentine’s Day?” Lanni asked.
Abbey sipped from her tea. “He wasn’t very imaginative. He bought me a box of chocolates and then promptly picked out his favorites.”
“Matt mailed me a card for Valentine’s Day,” Karen murmured, remembering how that card had affected her. She’d dug it out of the garbage and kept it.
“I know why he did,” Lanni told her. “At least I think I do. You sent a Christmas card for Matt last year, along with your gifts to the family, remember?”
Karen wasn’t likely to forget. She’d agonized over that card. She hadn’t wanted to ignore him, but at the same time, she didn’t feel it would be a good idea to encourage him to think there was any possibility of reconciliation. He’d never mentioned the card, or said anything about the note she’d sent with it. She wondered if he’d kept it, the way she had his valentine message.
The valentine card was meant to be a reminder that he still loved her and wanted her with him, she suspected. It had come when she was most vulnerable, when she’d been trying her hardest to put Matt and their marriage behind her. As if she could ever forget Matt, no matter how hard she tried.
“What’s going to happen with you and my brother?” Lanni asked, her expression serious. “Will you really go back to California after the baby’s born?”
Karen didn’t know how to answer that. “I’m not sure…I want us to make a new start together. Heaven knows I love him enough, but we still have things to work out.”
“He’s trying,” Lanni said.
Karen scratched at the mosquito bites on her arms. “I’m afraid if he tries any harder it’ll do me in.”
Charles was reading a scientific journal when he heard someone on the porch. Setting aside the magazine, he walked into the living room, half expecting Lanni’s return from the library.
To his surprise his visitor was his youngest brother. “Well, hello, Christian. Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Christian stepped inside and glanced around. “Where’s Lanni?”
“Over at the library.”
Christian seemed relieved. “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, with an uneasiness that wasn’t like him.
“Not at all. Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah,” Christian said stiffly. “A new secretary.”
Charles didn’t bother
to conceal his impatience. “What’s the matter with Mariah?”
“We don’t get along,” he spat out. He sank onto the sofa.
“I don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t like the woman. Never have.”
“What does Sawyer think?”
Christian shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to have a problem with her, and since we went to the expense of flying her up to Alaska, he isn’t that keen on firing her.”
“So you’ve come to me, hoping I’ll talk Sawyer into agreeing with you.”
Christian’s eyes brightened. “Yes,” he blurted, and then shook his head. “No. I don’t know what I want. Yes, I do. I want Mariah out of that office. If she chooses to stay in Hard Luck, fine. As far as I’m concerned, she has as much right to stay here as anyone else.”
“What about employment?”
A pained expression came over Christian’s face. “Ben’s been talking about hiring some help.”
“But Mariah’s not a waitress.”
Christian rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. Charles could tell he’d given the matter thought. “Matt will need to take on an employee or two at some point. Let him deal with her. Just get her out of my sight.”
Charles mulled this over, unsure how to respond. “It could be a while before Matt can afford to take on an employee. And it wouldn’t surprise me if Karen decides to stay after the baby’s born. That’ll mean extra expenses—and an extra person to help out at the lodge. Karen’s already filling a lot of the gaps. Do you honestly think Mariah can afford to wait around till Matt’s ready to hire her?”
“No.” Christian frowned. “Darned if I know what to do with her. There’s got to be somewhere she can go. I wish Sawyer and I could agree on this.”
Charles sat on a chair across from his brother, gazing down at his feet. He was reluctant to involve himself in areas like hiring—and firing. Although he was a full partner with his two brothers in Midnight Sons, he was a silent one. He left these types of decisions to Sawyer and Christian.
“Has Mariah made expensive mistakes?” he asked, buying time to consider the situation. Charles couldn’t remember ever seeing Christian so flustered. Just the fact that he’d come to him for advice said quite a bit.
Midnight Sons Volume 2 Page 27