Willow Smoke

by Adriana Kraft

  “You really are serious, aren’t you?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “Is she?”

  “She doesn’t know that she is yet.”

  Cassie laughed. “That sounds so much like Clint. He was ready long before me.”

  “Yeah, well, Daisy can’t bring herself to believe that such things are possible. She doesn’t allow herself to dream big enough.”

  “But she’s capable of dreaming big.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “This doesn’t surprise me, really. Daisy is a passionate, attractive, competent young woman. I was hoping she’d find someone closer in age, but you are a very upstanding, resourceful man.” Cassie bent over the desk and pulled out a file. She gave him an offhanded smirk. “You checked out very well. Daisy may not have informed you that my husband is also a silent partner in a local private detective agency.”

  Nick’s laughter came from deep in his diaphragm. “I’ve heard of protective mothers, but this is pretty extreme.”

  “Maybe. I just wanted to be sure you were a good guy and not one of those creeps who make a practice of preying on young girls. Knowing what I do about you, I expect you would have done the same thing if you had been in my shoes.”

  “No doubt about that. Does that mean you’re on my side?”

  “No, I’m on Daisy’s side. Whatever she chooses to do in the long run, I will support her. I expect you are very good for her, at least right now.” Cassie paused and closed the file. “You two come from very different worlds. You may be able to accept each other, but will you be able to function in each other’s world? I don’t know. Do you?”

  “Nope. But if she wore out those pants learning to ride, I expect if she decides she wants to live in my world, nothing and no one will be able to stop her.”

  Cassie stood. “I bet you’re right about that. Why don’t we head back? I don’t want her thinking we’re plotting a conspiracy out here. But be very clear Nicholas Underwood—she will have to choose you. You won’t be able to buy her or cajole her. If you try to guide her with a tight rein, she’ll toss her head and bolt.”

  Nick frowned. “I’ve learned that already.”

  As they left the barn to walk toward the house, Cassie asked, “So have you met Daisy’s half-sister yet?”

  Nick stopped and looked down at Cassie. “No, I haven’t. I’d completely forgotten about her. Daisy only mentioned her once or twice.”

  “That’s not surprising.” She squinted at him and the setting sun. “If you and Daisy do get serious, there’ll be trouble from that corner.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Maxine’s married to a lowlife bastard. Reggie is a smalltime pimp, drug dealer and who knows what else. He’s been in and out of prison a few times, but nothing big. I’ve threatened to turn Clint and his partner on him, but Daisy would never forgive me. It’s the only blood family she has.”

  “So how does that affect me?”

  “Reggie and Maxine have bloodhound noses when it comes to money. When they find out about you, they’ll be trying to figure out some way to tap into the rich man. It could get uncomfortable for Daisy. Knowing Reggie, it could get downright nasty. I only had to meet him once after Daisy moved in with us to tell the bastard that he wasn’t welcome on my property or around my family.”

  “Sounds like a great family,” Nick responded sarcastically. “But I’m not holding Daisy responsible for her family, and I’m fairly good at protecting my own.”

  “I suppose you are, but Daisy may not turn to you for help. There is still a lot of street in her. She’ll try to take care of any problems herself and will be just as inclined to protect you as you are to protect her.”

  “Now that’s ridiculous. I sure as hell don’t need protection. I’ll whittle the punk down to size if he gives me the excuse.”

  Cassie shook her head. “You don’t understand. Reggie is lowlife. He won’t stand up and fight you. He’ll threaten Maxine. He’ll threaten Daisy. He might come after you, but if he does, it will be in the dark and you won’t see him.”

  For a moment, Nick’s stomach knotted as it had so often when he and Tom Harrison staked out a target when they were nineteen and twenty. “I’m pretty good in the dark,” he muttered, “if I have to be.”

  Cassie placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t do anything stupid. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe I’m just an overly protective mom, but I felt you needed to know. Daisy wore out those riding pants in part because she wouldn’t ask for help when she needed it.”

  Chapter Eight

  Daisy inhaled the crisp, clear air. She perched on an outcropping of granite and stared across the bluest water she’d ever seen to yet another island. There would be another island beyond that one. That was the way it had been for the past three days paddling in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.

  Two spruce trees towering above her sang a playful tune on the soft breeze. She held several small pieces of red-veined jasper. The area abounded with jasper, along with wildlife, and birds, and trees, and fish. Things she knew so very little about.

  She set the jasper aside, pulled her knees to her chest and fixed her gaze on Nick, who continued paddling back and forth in figure eights, in tight circles, then in larger ones. He was running the prototype canoe through its paces again. Every now and then he’d stop and place small strips on the bow of the canoe. While the canoe had functioned perfectly from her perspective, Nick had discerned that with a single canoeist, it planed a bit too much. And there was the slightest of pulls to the right. He was a perfectionist.

  Daisy rubbed her arms vigorously. She’d found muscles in her arms, legs and back that she never knew existed. Paddling required effort. Although Nick did seventy percent of the work along with the steering from his position in back of the canoe, she’d come along fairly well and at least contributed a decent share. And then there was portaging. Nick handled the canoe and she carried much of the gear.

  She looked across at the horizon. They’d driven through flat marsh, bogs, and rather scruffy looking trees to get to the boundary waters. Yet when it came to portaging a canoe, there was no flat land to be found, and whether coming or going, it was uphill or downhill.

  Scratching at bites on her bare legs, Daisy tried to ignore the gnawing pain. She smelled like the inside of a Deets bottle. There were many unnamed biting insects, but the mosquito stood out as the most fierce and pesky. She’d become accustomed to the clinging repellant odor. Maybe because Nick smelled just as bad as she did.

  Daisy stood and stretched in the warm mid-afternoon sunshine. The days warmed up nicely, yet the nights were surprisingly chilly. Splashes of red, orange, and yellow were everywhere among the many shades of green spruce and pine. Early autumn had already arrived, and it was only mid-September. She’d expected more broadleaf trees. Nick had informed her that they were too far north for most maples and oaks. Still, there was an enchanting amount of color to warm the spirit.

  While she’d never considered herself much of a religious person, standing on the granite rock looking out over the water onto the next island made her think of an e. e. cummings poem she’d had to memorize in English class: I thank You God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes.

  Daisy breathed a yes embracing the sanctuary in which she stood. She’d never known such a place. So wild. So serene. So other worldly. So fundamental. It was all of those things and more. In the middle of the night, she’d huddled closer to Nick listening to the screams of a prey falling to a more powerful or more cunning hunter.

  She was privy to that balance of survival: who would win and who would lose? Out here, there were seldom additional opportunities for second or third place finishers. Out here, the victor didn’t receive a blanket of roses, but rather life and the chance to hunt again. The loser—she didn’t want to dwell on the fate of the loser.

  �
��Totally engrossed? I could have been a bear,” Nick teased, encircling Daisy from behind, rubbing his groin against her buttocks.

  Daisy didn’t startle. She’d heard his approach and knew what he would do. His strong arms comforted. Being here with him had shown her aspects of Nick Underwood that she hadn’t seen in the city. He seemed less demanding, less hurried—if anything, even more gentle and patient.

  She liked having Nicholas Underwood for a lover. Not just as a teacher, but for a lover. Daisy compressed her lips. That acknowledgement was a huge, dangerous step. But she’d taken it with her eyes open. She hoped her heart would survive.

  “So how’s your first love doing? I saw you playing with those lead strips again.”

  “Playing. I’ll have you know that’s serious business.” Grinning, Nick rubbed his cheek against her ear. “By the time we’re done, I’ll know precisely what we’ll have to change to get it just right.”

  “And a Paddle Dreams Unlimited canoe has to be just right.” Daisy leaned back into Nick resting her hands on his rear. “You certainly have high standards.”

  “Yes, I do. And that goes for my women, too.” He ran his tongue over her earlobe.

  Daisy shuddered. Was it caused by the wind that had suddenly quickened, by his tongue working its erotic magic on her ear, or by his words? High standards. If he only knew.

  “So do we paddle on, or do we stay camped here?” she asked, wanting to be practical.

  “Why don’t we spend another night here? There’s no hurry. That’ll give us time to catch supper. I’d just as soon not do freeze-dried again. We should supplement our supplies.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Daisy broke their embrace and started to walk back toward camp. “You have to catch the fish. So far I can’t even get the line out over ten feet.”

  “You only tried it for the first time yesterday. It takes a while to develop a knack for casting,” Nick said, matching her stride.

  “Good thing you have quick reflexes and ducked yesterday, or I could be minus a guide.”

  “I’ve been hooked before. It’s painful, but I survived.”

  Daisy glanced warily at him. He maintained a straight face. There were still times when she wasn’t sure if he was kidding or serious. Well, she had no plans to hook him, with a gigantic fishing lure or with any other kind of hook. Yesterday was a near accident, a mistake that could have been a lot worse. Today she’d be more careful.

  Daisy leaned forward over the front of the canoe stretching her back muscles. They’d only been fishing half an hour, but it felt like four times that. There was no explanation why the fish liked his lure better than hers. She’d at least mastered—well, sort of mastered—getting the damn thing out in the water. It still splashed loudly enough to chase away anything with fins within a hundred yards. Nick said she might get a big Northern angry enough to attack her lure. Not likely.

  Reeling in her line slowly, Daisy glanced up over at a nearby tree. It was a huge spruce that probably had been struck by lightening more than once, because half its branches were dead. But it wasn’t the branches that had raised her heart into her throat.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she whispered, pointing toward the tree.

  Nick followed her line of sight. “Ah, good girl. We’ve been joined by one of nature’s best fishers, the bald eagle. Now, if we catch a fish we have to be careful and stow it before Mr. Eagle wants to come and claim it.”

  “You’re kidding. Right?”

  “It’s never happened to me, but I’ve heard such stories.”

  “Yeah, well, people will say most anything. Damn, he is big. Look, here he comes. He’s huge!” The bird swooped low over the water, dropped suddenly, and then with a powerful lurch rose from the water with a large fish clasped firmly between its claws.

  “Shouldn’t have to worry about protecting our catch for a while,” Nick said dryly. He paused. “Spotting that eagle means you’ve been blessed.”

  Daisy recast her silver spinner. “So now what kind of story are you telling me?”

  “I’m serious,” Nick said, using a paddle to reset the canoe into the dying wind. “According to many Native Americans, the eagle is the most sacred spirit found in nature. When eagle appears, it’s a reminder to move beyond the shadows of former lives and be open to new illumination. Eagle teaches to love the shadow and the light. If you can do that, then you will fly freely like the eagle.”

  “That sounds like a lot of bunk...” Daisy’s rod bent; line raced out of the reel, making a shrill hum. “Holy shit!”

  “Set the hook!” Nick quickly reeled in his line and grabbed the net. “Pull back on the rod sharply. Okay, now you can let him run a bit.”

  “Let him. You got to be kidding,” Daisy said, through clenched teeth. “He’s doing whatever the hell he wants to do. Damn, my arms are tired already.”

  “Relax. He’ll tire. Go with him. But be prepared to take up any slack line in case he decides to make a run toward the boat. Here he comes. Reel!”

  “Shit,” Daisy muttered, cranking the reel handle as fast as she could. Nick turned the canoe, or her fish would have gotten clean away. That fish had to be tiring; when he hit the end of her line, she was able to hold him and turn him. Maybe by instinct, maybe remembering something Nick had said, she began to guide the fish back and forth from right to left.

  He surfaced some twenty feet from the boat. Daisy gasped. He was big. Bigger than anything she’d seen Nick catch. She wanted to land this fish more than anything else at the moment. The fish jumped and then dove. Daisy let him take more line. She sensed the fish weakening; the battle was won. By the time she reeled the Northern up to the canoe, she was as exhausted as the fish.

  “You’ve got a monster, girl. Nice fish.” Nick’s voice was laced with pride. Leaning over carefully, he placed a gaff hook through the fish’s gill and lifted him into the canoe. He reached for a paddle. “We’re heading for shore before this guy gets new life. We have supper and breakfast, at least.”

  “Now that I have some understanding of what I’m supposed to do, we’re quitting?” Daisy protested.

  “There’ll be other opportunities. We don’t have a choice—if I put this guy over the side, he’s going to drag us across the lake. If you’re too worn out to paddle, that’s okay.”

  “Oh.” Daisy put her rod aside and reached for the paddle. “That was thrilling. I never had a clue what it would be like to catch a fish. Even watching you didn’t prepare me.”

  “Sometimes you just have to have the experience.” Nick steered the canoe toward shore. “And the next time it will be easier. But be prepared. We don’t always land them. This guy could have gotten away several times, but you did what was needed to keep him on without breaking the line.”

  Daisy stepped onto the shore. She plopped down on the bank before her legs gave out. Landing that fish had left her depleted. She let Nick pull the canoe out of the water.

  “Well done, partner,” he said, grinning. He hefted the Northern and grabbed the waterproof camera he always had handy when canoeing. “Here, you hold the fish and I’ll record this moment for posterity. Cassie won’t believe it otherwise.”

  Daisy smiled broadly with her hand held high to keep the fish’s tail from hitting the ground. “His teeth sure look sharp.”

  “Razor sharp.” Nick snapped a picture. “A couple more. Like I said before, don’t go putting your fingers anywhere near a Northern’s mouth. That’s why we have the long-nosed hook remover.”

  Tucking the camera back in a waterproof gear bag, Nick turned and asked. “So are you ready to clean your catch?”

  “No way!” Daisy held the fish out arms length.

  Nick laughed. “All right. I’ll clean it. Why don’t you gather some wood for a cooking fire? I’m so hungry I can almost smell the fish frying.”

  “Okay.” Daisy’s stomach rumbled, but she wasn’t sure it was from hunger. She’d never eaten a fish she’d actually caught. That seemed so personal.
They’d developed a relationship in the fight. She’d felt the full flush of victory when Nick hauled the fish over the side of the canoe. Where had that triumphant feeling gone?

  - o -

  “So are you glad you came along?” Nick asked. It was their last night on the water.

  Nick warmed at the sight of Daisy’s soft smile. “Yeah,” she admitted, “you were right. This was great. Just to know that a place like this exists is a treasure.”

  As she stared into the fire, Nick saw a wistfulness etch her frame as if she were trying to hold onto something, but knew she couldn’t. Without looking at him, she asked, “So how was it for you? You found out everything you needed to know about the prototype?”

  “That I did. But that was secondary. Having you with me is what made this trip exceptional. Watching you embrace the unknown. The eagle. The loon. The flicker. Fishing. Sleeping in a tent. Paddling. The stars.

  “You’re a very expressive person, Daisy. You breathe new life into old things for me. How many eagles have I seen? Watching you totally amazed with your first fish. How many fish have I caught? Yet, your first will be one of my most memorable fish stories. You bring freshness to the wilderness. Maybe it’s those first encounters that are the most pristine and the most lasting.” Nick hunched over before the fire. “Maybe I’m just showing my age.”

  Continuing to concentrate on the flames of the fire, Daisy said softly, “By the way, you should know that you’re now making love to a twenty-one year old.”

  Nick turned his head sharply. “What?”

  Daisy chuckled. “Today’s my birthday. I told you it was soon.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He couldn’t believe she hadn’t let him know about such an important day. “We would have done something to mark it.”

  Daisy reached over and squeezed his thigh. “Nothing you could have done would be better than this past week. Being out here. Just having this time alone with you. No cell phones. No responsibilities. It’s been beyond my wildest dreams. I thought you’d be happy that I turned twenty-one.”