“Anything. If I have it, it’s yours.”
“I need to borrow something to wear so I can shop for my own. I think the only clothes I salvaged are sweats.”
Jenna smiled. “My closet is your closet.” Then she asked the blessing, and Rachel added to it.
“Thank you for giving me good friends and neighbors, Lord. Bless them, especially Jenna who’s given me a home, the firemen who worked so tirelessly … and my friend Jake who always seems to know exactly what to say and do.” She smiled at Jenna. “Amen. Now pass those wonderful scones. I’m starving.”
At four-fifteen, Jake pulled into the Blackberry Hill Bed and Breakfast, shut off his truck and grabbed the bag beside him on the seat. A few moments later, he was standing in the foyer and handing it to Jenna. “She’s not here?”
Jenna shook her head. “She needed to do some shopping—and she wanted to drive down to the campground to see where she stood. I offered to go along, but she wanted to do it herself.”
He got that. The best way to handle lousy news was to face it head-on. Despite her tears last night, she had the strength to do that. “Okay, I’ll catch up with her later. I just wanted to drop those off. They’re probably the wrong size, but maybe they’ll work anyway. The salesclerk said they’d be comfortable.” He paused. “Just tell her I—”
A car pulled in outside, and he turned to glance through the screen door. “Never mind,” he said, glad to see her red Explorer. “I’ll tell her myself.”
Blue eyes twinkling, Jenna returned the bag, opened the door and saw him out. “Take your time.”
Jake wasn’t sure what all that twinkling was about and he didn’t ask. He concentrated on Rachel—concentrated on keeping his head straight and their friendship just that. Risking her life to save her wedding portrait from the flames had sent an indelible message. In some ways she would always be David Patterson’s wife—and they were ways that counted to a man.
“Hi,” she called as she left the car loaded down with packages of her own. It was cool today, but sunlight shot her thick sable shag with highlights. “What brings you to my foster home?”
“Your feet.” He was surprised to see her sounding and acting so calm. She looked pretty in the outfit she wore—olive-green cotton slacks and a white sweater with a scooped neckline trimmed in olive-green. He nodded at her new neon-white sneakers as she ascended the steps. “But it looks like you won’t need these after all.”
With a curious tilt of her head, she accepted the bag he offered. She smiled when she withdrew the shoe box and opened the lid. “Sandals?”
“You can return them if you don’t like them or they don’t fit. Because I wasn’t sure of your size, I sort of—” He positioned his hands this way and that as though he were holding her foot again. “Guessing isn’t an exact science.”
Her green eyes warmed, and a matching feeling rose in his chest. Then he watched her take a seat on the porch’s wicker sofa, ease off her sneakers and short socks and slip on the low-heeled, cushion-soled, strappy leather sandals he’d bought for her. The bandages he’d applied to her left foot last night had been replaced with fresh ones.
“Will they work?” Ridiculous as it seemed, he couldn’t recall ever giving a gift that made him feel so … He didn’t know what the right word was, but if spending a few bucks made him feel this good, he’d buy footgear for the whole town.
She stood and flashed a foot. “They’re great! I love them. I feel like Cinderella.”
And he felt like the prince. Although the service revolver on his hip and his tan uniform were a far cry from a plumed hat and a silver sword.
“I have to pay you for them.”
“No, you don’t. Just consider them a fair trade for six months worth of coffee.” He dropped his voice and changed the subject. “How did things go today? Did the fire marshal get in touch with you?”
Sobering, she sat back down and he took a seat beside her. “I haven’t heard anything yet. But my insurance company’s in the process of putting through the claim.”
“That has to be a relief.”
“You have no idea,” she returned. The light in her eyes dimmed for an instant, then she called up a quick smile. “But I’m good now. I lived through visiting the rubble, so now it’s onward and upward.”
“You’re still planning to open Memorial Day weekend?” He’d walked down to her house today, too, and the smell of charred wood and chemical odors still remained. Yards of yellow police tape couldn’t hold back the stench.
“Yes. Thank heaven my guest list and information was in the camp store’s computer, too. I was able to phone everyone who’d booked sites and tell them I couldn’t guarantee the smoke smell would be gone when they arrived.”
Jake smiled inside when she tucked her socks, sneakers and the empty shoe box into the bag, but kept the sandals on her feet.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I gave them the option of canceling, but no one wanted to. My business survived. I’m feeling blessed.”
“You feel blessed? By God?”
“Well, yes,” she said with a grin. “He’s the guy in charge of that stuff.”
Jake shook his head. “You amaze me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re so at peace with everything. So accepting. So positive. It’s just hard to understand how you could lose your home and—”
“Watching my home go up in flames was devastating,”
she assured him. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. Would you rather see me crying again?”
“No, but I can’t understand why you stopped. You’re like my mother. You’re devout. You pray, you go to church every Sunday even if you’re exhausted. Don’t you deserve better than this? Why aren’t you mad at God?”
She tilted her head. “Why would I be mad at Him? He saved my life. He woke me up.”
“That wasn’t God you heard. Your smoke detectors woke you up.”
“No, they didn’t. I woke up before they went off. But even if I’d had to depend on them, God gave someone the intelligence to invent them, so in the end …”
Jake sighed at her unshakable faith and conceded. She was like his mother. Full of forgiveness. “Okay, God woke you up. I got it.”
“Good, because it’s true.”
She got quiet then, and as birds called to each other and the sun slid behind a thick bank of clouds, Jake realized it was time to leave. She had things to do. At the very least, she probably needed some rest.
“You’re sure I can’t pay you for the sandals?” she asked, rising with him, then joking. “I’ll be getting a big insurance check soon, so I can afford it.”
“I’m positive.” It still astounded him that she could make light of her loss—at least on the surface.
“Then let me thank you another way—for the sandals and for everything you did last night.” Her next very familiar words made Jake wonder if he did have his head on straight where she was concerned. “Let me treat you to an early dinner. Nothing fancy. Just chicken at the diner, and maybe ice cream for dessert.”
He battled with himself for a few seconds, wondering if saying yes was a good idea. If he started caring too much about someone who was unavailable, he could be running around with a hole in his gut again. He hadn’t liked it the first time, and he was pretty sure the second time would be even worse. But … they were friends, and she felt grateful. Nothing more. “Can you wait until I change clothes and check on Maggie?”
“No problem,” she said, indicating the outfit she wore. “I have things to do, too. These are Jenna’s. I’d like to toss the clothes I bought in the washer before I leave so I can wear my own things tomorrow. I don’t want to put her out any more than I have to.”
“Okay.” But he suspected that Jenna didn’t consider herself “put out” at all. “Do you want to meet me at the diner around five?”
“Five’s perfect.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
He was in his truck an
d about to pull out of the driveway and onto Main Street Extension when his cell phone pumped out a melody. Pulling it from the case on his belt, he checked the caller’s number. And everything inside of him shut down. Drawing a breath, he flipped open the phone and tried to keep his voice polite. Trying was a big fat waste of time.
“Hello, Heather,” he said coolly. “What do you want?”
The diner was noisy when they arrived, the chatter of conversation and clank of silverware nearly drowning out the pop music from the seventies. It was Saturday night. The lunch counter was jammed, short tables were pushed together to accommodate parents and kids, and teenagers were packed six in a booth. Three waitresses moved along at a steady clip, trying to keep up. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.
Everyone except Jake, Rachel guessed.
He was trying to hide it, but something had definitely changed since she last saw him. “Where would you like to sit?” she asked. There were a few small tables available in the center of the room, but the booths were all full.
“Anywhere,” he said, forcing a friendly grin. “The food will be good no matter where we sit.”
But would the conversation be good, too? Especially with the two of them trapped in the middle of madness and mayhem? Rachel’s interest sharpened as a couple got up and left a back booth. The table wasn’t cleared, but—She turned to Jake and smiled. “Follow me, sir.”
Several people offered their sympathies on the fire as they threaded their way back. The women all eyed Jake with subtle interest, which was the nature of things. But their interest wasn’t confined to his broad shoulders, jeans and pale blue knit shirt. Rachel knew they wondered if she and Jake were a couple.
By the time they made it to their booth, eighteen-year-old bundle-of-energy Mitzi Abbott had cleared away the glasses and plates. The cute brunette flashed them a smile, spritzed water on the table and whisked a cloth over it.
“Hi, Rachel. Hi, Jake. Do you need menus? Our special’s chicken-fried steak with your choice of potato or green beans and either French onion soup or a side salad. Oh, cinnamon applesauce comes with it, too.”
“The special sounds good,” Jake said, smiling. “I’ll have the salad, baked potato and coffee. Rachel?”
“Same here,” she said, although she knew it was going to be too much food.
Mitzi was already on the move. “Great,” she called. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
Rachel slid into the booth, set her shoulder bag on the seat beside her, then met Jake’s eyes across the table. When she didn’t say anything for a full moment, he spoke.
“What?”
“Ninety minutes ago you were happy and upbeat. Now you’re distracted or disturbed about something.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“To me it is. Do you want to talk about it? Or should I mind my own business?”
He didn’t have time to respond—which might have been a good thing, Rachel decided. A tall, rack-of-bones man with pale blue eyes and rimless eyeglasses left his table and walked on stork legs to their booth. Elmer Fox’s red plaid flannel shirt was tucked into navy work pants, and his belt was cinched so tightly that it puckered his waistband. Closely clipped white hair showed under his red-and-black Woolrich cap.
Charity’s favorite outspoken octogenarian spoke in a hoarse voice that made people want to clear their throats. “Heard about the fire, Rachel. You doin’ all right?”
By now, her responses were all the same. “Yes, I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking.”
He folded his long, lanky frame into the booth beside her. “Dang shame. All them firemen working so hard and unable to save your place. I hear you’re stayin’ at the Blackberry for now.”
“Yes. Jenna insisted.”
“That’s good of her. But you got a campground to run, and it’s gonna be hard to do it from town.” He paused. “I got a nice room at my place if you want it. It ain’t fancy like the Blackberry, but it’s clean and it’s a dang sight closer to your work.”
Rachel’s heart nearly melted. What a darling man he was. But there was no way she could accept his offer. Besides, she already had a plan of sorts. She reached over to squeeze his age-spotted hand. “Thank you, but I’m afraid tongues would wag if I moved in with you. I wouldn’t want to put you in that position.”
For a long moment, Elmer stared at her blankly as if trying to decipher what she meant. Then a light went on in his blue eyes, his jaw dropped and he hooted until he wheezed. “Now wouldn’t that be somethin'! Last time folks gossiped about me, Ike was in office.”
Laughing along with him, Rachel turned to Jake and made belated introductions. “Jake, do you know Elmer Fox?”
He reached across the table to shake Elmer’s hand. “Only by sight and reputation.” Which was considerable, Rachel thought. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fox.”
Elmer’s expression soured. “You the new game warden?”
“Yep.” Technically, he was a W.C.O., but game warden worked.
“You read any of the signs outside my house?”
“Yes, sir, I have. I drive by your place almost daily.”
“Then you know I don’t like the way you fellas are managing the deer.”
Jake seemed to hold back a smile. “I do. Maybe we should talk sometime.”
“Maybe we should,” he agreed with a grumpy nod. Then he glanced at the table full of teenagers he’d left. Apparently, he’d been holding court. “Well, I gotta get back over there. None of ‘em knows a thing about World War II and they got finals coming up.”
He shook a finger at Rachel as he started away. “Remember, I got a nice room for you if you want it.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, Elmer,” she called. “Have a nice evening.”
Then Mitzi arrived with their drinks and salads, more people stopped by their table to offer their sympathies and talk about the fire and the time for discussing Jake’s problem passed.
He surprised her by following her back to the Blackberry after they’d said goodbye at the diner—then thoroughly stunned her with an invitation.
“Feel like taking a drive?” he said when he’d parked and exited his vehicle.
A drive? Now? It would be dark in two hours. “Sure,” she said after a moment. “Is there something you want to talk about?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Heather called.”
SIX
Payton’s Rocks was the highest point in the area, filled with a craggy kind of beauty, its gigantic rock formations nearly scraping the sky. Jake’s tires crunched over dirt and gravel as they came to a stop and he shut off the motor.
“I stumbled onto this place shortly after I transferred,” he said as they exited the vehicle. “I’m always surprised that there aren’t more people using the resources up here.”
“I’m not,” Rachel returned as they walked, single file, over the narrow path to the rocks. She didn’t mind their small talk. When he was ready to discuss that phone call, he would. “I think it’s fairly common for people to miss the beauty in their own backyards. My dad calls it ‘the grass is greener syndrome.’”
He spoke from behind her. “How’s your dad doing?”
“Getting stronger every day, and I’m so thankful.”
“Did you tell your mom and dad about the fire?”
“No, and I hope no one else does, either, until I have something positive to add.”
“Rebuilding is positive.”
“I know, but that won’t happen for a while.” Contractors would have their work lined up by now, probably into the fall.
The path opened wide enough for them to walk side-by-side, then wider still until they were finally staring at centuries-old rock behemoths. They strolled among the giants for a while, marveling at the size and mass of the rocks, then finally settled on a low, sun-warmed boulder surrounded by blue sky. Far below, cutting through the heavily forested hillside, the state route they’d traveled was a winding gray ribbon.
“About Heather �
�” he said when he’d been silent for a while. “I still can’t believe she called. After the way we left it, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again.”
“Your parting wasn’t friendly.”
He blew out a short laugh. “Not even a little bit. I probably should have changed my cell phone number.”
“What did she want?” It was hardly her place to ask, but that question had been burning in her mind since he’d uttered Heather’s name twenty minutes ago.
“She says she wants to visit.”
Rachel’s pulse stepped up its pace, and glancing down, she zipped Jenna’s blue fleece jacket, suddenly needing to do something with her hands. “How do you feel about that?”
“Not great.” He scooped up a few pebbles, then stood and arced one after another over the precipice to the forest below. “Did I tell you she worked for a travel agency?”
“No,” she replied quietly. “You never even mentioned her name until a few minutes ago.”
“Well, that’s how we met. My parents were taking another cruise, and my dad asked me to pick up the tickets. He’d booked with Heather several times and really liked her. Somewhere along the line, I guess he decided that if we met …”
He didn’t finish, so she finished for him. “The two of you would click?”
“Something like that.” He scooped up a few more pebbles, then sent them flying, as well. “Long story short, it worked for a while. Then her boss divorced his wife, and Heather decided Mark was more exciting than a guy who wanted to live and work in the woods. According to her, a guy who had no desire to live up to his potential.”
Stunned that any woman would leave Jake for any reason—particularly when she knew who and what he was when they met—Rachel took a moment to reply. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.
“My family’s half owner of Prestige Communications. You’ve probably heard of it.”
Who hadn’t? Rachel thought, startled. Prestige wasn’t as big as AT&T or Comcast, but it was sizable.
“Prestige supplies broadband service to several hundred thousand customers. Maybe more now. I don’t ask. Anyway … Heather wanted me to take a position in the company—which would have made my dad ecstatic, too. But that’s not who I am, or who I ever wanted to be. She didn’t get it.”
On Deadly Ground Page 7