by Meg Easton
“Really.”
“Really,” she said, pulling the second bag from under her seat and feeling around inside. With a flourish, she lifted out something wrapped in paper. “I stopped at Joey’s Pizza and Subs on my way here. Is roast beef with everything still your favorite?”
“Oh,” he said, a pained expression on his face. “I forgot to tell you. I’m vegan now.”
“You are not,” she said, smacking him in the arm, causing the canoe to rock back and forth, before putting the sandwich in his lap and pulling out a second one for herself.
She opened her sandwich, and just before she took her first bite, he said, “Wait,” and she paused, sandwich halfway to her open mouth. “This is not the appropriate lighting for Joey’s Pizza and Subs.” He turned off the lantern, and before his eyes could adjust to the moonlight, they were plunged into momentary darkness. He felt for the switch to the lights he’d installed just under the outside ridge of the canoe and flipped them on.
Light glowed all around the canoe and danced across the waves, bouncing on the water more than a dozen feet away. He took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of the wonder crossing Whitney’s face as she gazed across the lake in amazement.
“Eli,” she breathed as she looked around, mesmerized. “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all season.” He’d known it was the wrong thing to say the moment he said it, even before Whitney’s gaze dropped to her lap. In an effort to get back the lightness from before, he grasped for anything to talk about. “So, do you talk to your mom often?” Nice. You’re on a beautiful lake in the moonlight with an amazing woman, and you ask about her mom.
“About once a week. I go visit her and my sister every summer, and they come visit me every Christmas. South Carolina is absolutely beautiful and every time I go there, they try to talk me into moving, and I’m tempted. I mean, they’ve got the ocean practically in their backyard. Then when they come here, they’re reminded of how beautiful Nestled Hollow is, and they’re tempted to move back. After all, we’ve got these mountains and this lake.”
“And Joey’s Pizza and Subs,” Eli said, holding his up as evidence.
Whitney laughed. “That almost tips the scales for here, of course. But the truth is, South Carolina is perfect for them and Nestled Hollow is perfect for me, and none of us are really going to ever move.”
What was Eli thinking? Why was he torturing himself by getting closer to Whitney? It could never work out, so it was just going to make Ben get his wish— he’d go back home brokenhearted. He just needed to focus on the decorations for Fall Market when he was around her. Get that done and over with, then focus on his dad’s business and TeamUp.
“Scavenger hunt,” he blurted out.
Whitney had just taken a bite, and gave him a confused look. She chewed quickly, swallowed, and then said, “What?”
“For Fall Market. We should have a scavenger hunt, and have things that people have to find that take them into different businesses and booths along Main Street.” By the look on Whitney’s face, she’d completely forgotten the reason they’d met up in the first place. He forged on, making sure the conversation turned its way to where it should be. “It would be good for businesses, and it would be a fun activity for the shoppers. Maybe we could get some donations for good prizes to really encourage people to play.”
“Yeah, that sounds really great. I bet all the businesses would be on board with that. We should bring it up at the Business Alliance meeting on Thursday, and get a list of who wants to participate, and get them thinking about what to have people search for in their stores, and if they can donate.”
Eli nodded. “I think setting up the decorations is going to be tough, and will probably take a while. How long will we have to prepare?”
“I can get half the town to come help. With enough people working together, I don’t think it’ll take too long. We should probably start gathering stuff, though. I can start calling people in town who use wood burning stoves, and see if they have some logs cut up that we can turn on their end to use as seats around the campfires.”
Eli tried not to flinch when he said, “I’ll ask my dad if we can borrow his truck to go pick them up. We can just line them along the side of Treanor’s. It might even start getting people excited.”
“And we’ll go get leaves this weekend?”
“Sounds good,” Eli said.
See? He could keep this relationship focused on what it was— a partnership to plan a town event. Nothing more.
Piece of cake.
He finished his sandwich, wadded the wrapper into a ball and tossed it into his bag. “We better get heading back,” he said, and picked up an oar and started paddling back to shore.
Eli was proud of himself. He didn’t have any Fall Market things to discuss, so he didn’t text Whitney once on Wednesday. He couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about her all day, or looked at the picture he’d taken of her when she saw the canoe’s lights on the water, or thought about everything that had gone through his mind as he’d looked in her eyes for ninety seconds, but not texting her felt like progress. Like maybe he could survive this interruption to his regular life with minimal heartbreak.
Thursday morning, he got a text from Whitney, asking if they could head straight from the Business Alliance meeting to the Willard home, because they might have all the logs they needed. Still Fall Market-related. That felt safe. He called his dad, asked to borrow his truck, and endured all the “You aren’t going to leave the shop not staffed well enough while it’s open, right?” and “Do you promise not to hot rod in my truck?” questions, and went and picked up the truck, thankfully while his dad was taking a nap, and drove it to the meeting.
He was doing pretty well at the meeting, too. He sat at the back, right behind the tallest person he could find in the crowd, blocking Whitney from his view. Then, of course, Linda Keetch asked the two of them to come to the front and update everyone on how the decorations were coming.
Whitney started telling about what they had planned. She was so at home in front of the group, and excitement about the event was coming off her in waves. It made him excited for it all over again. They both jumped in, telling one part after another, like a dance they both knew their parts to perfectly. The Business Alliance got excited, too, and was on board with everything.
By the time they left the meeting, they were both breathless, like they’d just run a race.
“It’s going to turn out as well as we’re imagining, right?” Whitney asked as she climbed into the passenger’s side of his dad’s truck.
“Of course it will.”
They drove to the Willard home, loaded up twenty-seven logs, each of them about twenty inches tall and big around enough for an adult to sit on, and drove all the way back to Treanor’s Outdoor Rentals, all while keeping the subject of conversation on the Fall Market. If this was a contest with himself, Eli was winning.
Since Treanor’s was on the corner, he was able to pull the truck right up to the side of the building, so they wouldn’t have to walk far with the logs. They had only unloaded half a dozen when a kid came along on a bike. He parked it on the sidewalk, and Whitney said, “Hey, Lincoln! I had to leave the office a bit early today. Did you drop off your article while I was gone?”
The little kid grinned. “Of course. A junior reporter always meets his deadlines.” Then he saluted Whitney, and she saluted back. Then they did some kind of fist bump sequence that Eli hadn’t ever seen before. Then he asked her to stand up straight so he could read her shirt. “I’m very FONT of you— you’re just my TYPE.” He looked like he didn’t quite get it, but didn’t ask for an explanation. “I think I like your one that says ‘Newspaper journalist— only because full time multitasking ninja isn’t an actual job title’ better.” After looking around, he said, “So, whatcha doin’?”
“Hauling logs,” Eli said. “Do you want to help?”
> The kid couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, but his face lit up. Eli tossed him a pair of gloves, and hoped the logs weren’t too heavy for the kid to lift. He suggested that they do it assembly-line style. Eli grabbed a log from the back of the truck, and then handed it to Lincoln. If it was heavy and the kid looked like he was struggling, Whitney could grab it from him before he even had to take a step.
“Wow, look at those muscles,” Eli said when Lincoln passed along the first log.
“We’re going to get done in no time with this extra help,” Whitney added.
They passed several along that way, until Lincoln looked like he was starting to get tired. Then Eli said, “You guys must be machines, because I’m beat. Do you mind taking a break for a minute so I can rest?” Then he went to the cab of the truck, pulled out a six pack of water bottles, and tossed one to Whitney and one to Lincoln before opening one himself.
As they all leaned against the side of the truck, drinking their water, he felt Whitney’s eyes on him. He turned to look at her, and tried to figure out what the look on her face was. “What?”
Whitney shook her head, like she hadn’t realized she’d been staring. She paused for a minute, gloves hanging out of the pockets of her jeans, running her finger along the top of the water bottle. “Do you ever think about having kids?”
“Yeah,” Eli said. “Of course. I’ve always wanted kids. Not just one, like my parents did, but a whole houseful of kids. I just—” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence, so he let it trail off. But Whitney kept looking at him, expecting him to finish. He took a breath and then just dumped it out, without letting himself think if it was a good idea first. “I’ve just got too many flaws to even get to the husband part, let alone the dad part.”
Whitney opened her mouth, like she was about to say something, but no words came out. Her forehead crinkled in confusion. Instead of letting her dwell on whatever she was thinking about him, he asked, “What about you?”
“Same,” she said, her voice barely coming out in a whisper.
He looked at her with the same bewilderment she was looking at him with. And for the smallest moment, he wondered if that dream of a wife and a houseful of kids was actually possible. He allowed himself to picture it as he and Whitney locked eyes. He allowed himself to picture living here in Nestled Hollow, and he was surprised to realize how much he’d like that.
Lincoln screwed the lid on his water bottle, plunked it down on the side of the truck, and said, “So are you two going to just stare at each other all day, or are we going to finish unloading this wood?”
Chapter Thirteen
Although they had texted quite a bit throughout yesterday, Whitney hadn’t seen Eli at all. Somehow not seeing him made her look forward to their trip up the mountain even more. The weather had turned colder over the past couple of days, so she dressed for the change. She didn’t go into the paper on Saturdays, so she didn’t feel the need to wear her usual “uniform.” Instead, she put on a favorite pair of jeans, brown knee high boots, a long sleeved t-shirt, and her red coat.
She took one last look in her full-length mirror, fluffed her hair a bit, and rearranged a curl. She looked ready to head up into the mountains with a ridiculously handsome man and collect leaves.
Pausing at her front door, Whitney turned to look at her empty apartment. She took a moment and thought back to when she’d been working with Eli to unload the logs on Thursday evening, and pictured what she’d pictured then: her kitchen and living room filled with Eli and a bunch of kids. The thought was just as thrilling— and scary and impossible—as it had been then. She headed out to her car and drove to Treanor’s, pulling into the lot behind the store.
Eli was already in the parking lot next to a four wheeler, hooking a trailer up to it that was at least twice as long as the all-terrain vehicle itself. Just like he’d promised, the trailer was packed with boxes that they could load up with the fall leaves. He finished whatever he was doing with the hitch, stood up straight, and gave her one of his crooked smiles, and she let out a breathless sigh.
“You ready to head up?”
Whitney nodded, and hefted her bag of water bottles into the trailer with the boxes. Eli put on a helmet, handed one to her, then slung a leg over the seat of the four-wheeler and started it up.
Whitney stepped on the foot rest, and then slung her other leg over the seat, too. She was sitting with her legs up against his, her hands out at her sides, and suddenly she didn’t know what to do with them. In all her preparations for heading up into the mountains with Eli, she hadn’t actually thought about this part. Many times over the past week and a half, Eli had felt like her old best friend. And if that’s where they still were, she’d have wrapped her arms around his stomach and held on tight without thinking anything of it. Now, though, things felt different, and she didn’t quite know what to do.
The four-wheeler gave a lurch as he eased it forward, and she threw her arms around his stomach. His muscles tightened as soon as her hands were on them, and she smiled. At least she wasn’t the only one who noticed that this just felt different.
As they drove past Main Street, several people on the sidewalks turned at the sound of the four-wheeler and waved. They both waved back. John Erickson called out, motioning to the trailer, “Is this something to do with Fall Market?”
“It sure is!” Eli called back.
“I can’t wait to see what you do.”
Whitney smiled. Eli seemed to slowly be coming around to accepting that the town did actually like him. He’d been so quick to join in a crowd when he’d lived here before, but she’d noticed that he held back most of the time when it came to people in town. It was nice to see him opening up a bit.
It didn’t take long before they reached the spot where the paved road from town gave way to the dirt road that led up the mountainside. As the road got steeper and steeper, Whitney had to adjust her hold on Eli so she wouldn’t slide off the back of the four-wheeler. As soon as her hands were on his chest, heat rushed to her face, and she laid her head against his back to hide her blush. Which was stupid, because it wasn’t like he could see her blush anyway, and now she also had her cheek against his back. So maybe it wasn’t a stupid decision after all, because his back felt amazing, and he smelled amazing. She closed her eyes and basked in the scent of his freshly laundered shirt, mixing with the pine and sunshine smells of the mountains, feeling the shift of his back muscles as he steered the vehicle up the rocky road.
The road up the mountain was much windier than the path of the ski tram, so the trip took much longer. She wasn’t complaining. When they reached the flat area at the top of the ski lift, Eli parked the four wheeler, the back end of the trailer near the trail they’d taken the time they’d come up last week.
She slid off the ATV first, and then Eli switched the engine off and got off as well. After taking off her helmet and placing it on the seat, she tried to fix what she was sure was a crazy new hairstyle. Eli took his helmet off, too, and ran a hand through his curls. She didn’t realize she’d frozen in mid-hair-fixing, staring at him, until he said, “What?”
Whitney leaned in closer to him, making a show of inspecting him. “Just checking for bug splatters. You didn’t have the same wind shield that I had.”
Eli smiled big, showing all his teeth. Whitney inspected those, too. She wiped a pretend bug off his cheek and said, “Lookin’ good.”
“Thank you for your service,” Eli said.
Whitney pulled on some thin gardening gloves, and they each grabbed a box and a leaf rake and headed up the path to the clearing surrounded by trees with fall leaves that they’d found last time. The area was covered in easily five times the number of leaves that they’d seen a week ago. They started raking the leaves into piles, then scooping them up by the armful and putting them into the boxes.
“So you worked at the Nestled Hollow Gazette through high school and college. What happened after college?”
“I
came back here and worked part time at the Nestled Hollow Gazette, and wrote freelance articles for half a dozen other newspapers until Mr. Annesley asked me if I could start working full time so that he could take a step back, and he started slowly turning more and more responsibilities over to me. Three years ago, he said he wanted me to run the paper when he retired, and that he was signing the deed over to me. Everyone thought he’d never retire.”
“I remember him loving the paper. And he did kind of seem like the type of person who would work until he died.”
Whitney got a little choked up. “Yeah, well, he had decided to retire— that very weekend— which totally caught me off guard. I still had so much to learn. Running the paper is a bit of a different responsibility than owning it. But he said he’d be around forever, so I could ask all the questions I wanted. But the weekend he retired, he left for a retirement trip to the coast. He never made it. He got in a massive car accident on the way.” Emotions welled up inside her, working their way up until her last sentence had barely come out as a whisper.
She cleared her throat and wiped away a stray tear. “I don’t actually talk about Mr. Annesley. New subject. Um...” She racked her brain, trying to think of anything she could ask Eli that would get him to open up about his past, but trying to push down all the past emotions about Mr. Annesley made her brain foggy and she couldn’t think of any. So she said, “Tell me something I don’t know.”
In an obvious effort to help pull her out of the dark place her emotions had gone, Eli said, “Sixteen point four million American adults believe that chocolate milk comes from brown cows.”
A laugh burst out of Whitney, and she wiped a stray tear with the back of her glove and grabbed another armful of leaves.
“When you spell out odd numbers, every single one of them has the letter E in it.” After a pause, he added, “Movie trailers used to be shown after the movie. That’s why they’re called ‘trailers.’ And did you know that rats and chimpanzees are the only animals that can legitimately find something humorous and laugh?”