Beneath Copper Falls

by Colleen Coble

  She practiced a calm, confident smile. “Let’s do this.”

  He stared at her. “Let’s take the mask off, okay? You’re not nearly as confident as you like people to think. And it’s all right.”

  The blood from her head rushed south. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Sure you do. Right now you want nothing more than to turn around and run. You’re out of your element so you’re hiding behind that smile. You’d hate for someone to think you couldn’t handle anything life throws at you.”

  Her smile faltered and died on her lips. How’d he know that? She inhaled and squared her shoulders. “Let’s do this. What’s your plan?”

  “To start with, I want to teach you how to stand for best stability and strength.” He positioned her in front of the punching bag. “Stand with your feet staggered and facing forward, not angling off to either side. Your knees should be slightly bent and fluid.”

  His warm fingers pressing into the flesh of her arms shot a warm tingle along her skin, but she forced herself to follow his instructions.

  “Good. First thing to remember is you don’t want to step closer to administer any of the strikes I’ll show you in a little while. If he’s too far for you to use your hands, then use your feet and give him a hard kick in his knee. To do that, you can’t be afraid to kick out with all your strength. Let’s practice. To kick out, turn a bit to the side and punch out with your foot like this.” A loud thud echoed from the high ceilings as his bare foot hit the bag.

  She eyed the punching bag and imagined where Garret’s knees might be. Gritting her teeth, she struck out with her foot, and the impact sent ripples up her leg.

  “Nice, but turn your foot a bit more so you’re not hitting your toes against the knee. You have more strength in the side or blade of your foot.” He demonstrated the move again.

  She nodded and did it again. This time the punching bag yielded a satisfying thud and swung away from her.

  “Great job. Now practice that for a bit and alternate your legs to get a feel for which one gives you the most stability and powerful kick.” He folded his arms across his broad chest and stood back to watch her.

  Her stance was probably off, but right now, she didn’t care. Imagining Garret on the ground and unable to hurt her drove her on to kick and kick and kick some more. She had no idea how long she stayed at it, but when Boone finally stopped her, she was drenched in perspiration and breathing hard through her mouth. Her leg muscles ached too.

  He handed her a clean white towel. “You were imagining hitting Waterman, weren’t you?”

  She dabbed the towel over her face and nodded. “He’s likely the only one I’ll ever have to take down.”

  “It’s good to personalize it, but you have to be prepared for anyone coming after you. Someone could jump you in an alley or a parking lot. I want you prepared to handle it all.”

  “I’ll get there.” She handed the towel back to him. “I’d better get home to shower and put away more of my stuff.”

  “It’s only three thirty. How about I show you around the camp before it gets dark? I’d even come help you unpack if you need a strong back.”

  She shouldn’t agree, but she found herself nodding and turning toward her shoes and coat.

  Boone watched as the boats pulled onto the shore of Lake Superior. “You ever been ice sailing?”

  She looked adorable with her red nose peeking out from under her fur hood. “I’ve heard about it but never tried it. I saw boats in Houghton when I went to college and always wanted to try it. How long have you been taking people out?”

  “About two years. I was the first outfitter here to rent out boats. Until I opened, everyone had to go to Houghton.”

  It had taken every bit of money and sacrifice he could muster to make a go of it at first. People in this area were more interested in renting a snow machine rather than an iceboat. His sister had created a website for him, and it had brought in tourists. Just a trickle at first, but that small stream had turned into a flood this past year.

  His heart squeezed. Renee would never know how her work had helped him. She died before it had all turned around.

  Dana touched his gloved hand. “You look sad again.”

  He forced a smile. “No one ever says that but you. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Your eyes went all distant, and your mouth tugged down at the corners. You hunched into yourself as well.”

  “What are you, some kind of body language expert?” He wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about Renee. It was still too painful.

  She removed her hand. “A dispatcher learns to read people. Besides, as I recall, you spent some time telling me I was putting on a front. The road goes both ways, buddy.”

  He’d offended her, and he hadn’t meant to get so prickly. “I was thinking about how my sister made a website for me. My business is successful thanks to her. And I never got to tell her.” It felt good to say it instead of keeping it pent up inside.

  Her blue eyes went soft, and she tucked a stray curl back under her hood. “I’m sorry. I remember how I felt when my parents drowned.”

  “They drowned? How old were you?”

  “Eight. That’s when I came to live with Chris and his parents.”

  He shook his head. “Wait, I thought Chris was your brother.”

  “Well, he is. They adopted me. But his dad was my dad’s brother. Chris was my aunt’s son and my uncle’s stepson.” She smiled. “It’s complicated, I know. He was fourteen when it happened. We’d been here for a vacation and were out on Superior. Chris was with them, and I was with his parents. They beached their boat for a picnic, and they must have broken through the hull somehow because after they launched again, the boat sank.

  “Chris was the only one wearing a life jacket. He tried to get the locker open to get to the other jackets, but it was locked.” Her voice broke and she looked out over the lake. “He was freezing cold and frantic by the time my uncle pulled him from the water.”

  The scene played out in his head like a movie. What a horrific thing to experience at such a young age. “Did they recover the bodies?”

  “The Coast Guard searched for four days. My uncle barely slept because he was out on his own boat. Dad was his only sibling.” She rubbed her head. “To tell you the truth, I try to block out as much of that awful day as I can. It was at Copper Falls. Superior doesn’t give up her dead easily.”

  The lake still held many a sailor in death’s grip. The cold water and lack of bacteria tended to keep bodies on the bottom.

  This time he touched her hand. “So you stayed in Rock Harbor and never went back to your home. Where did you live before?”

  “Washington. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to move when Garret asked me. I wanted to see if I remembered any old friends, to walk the same streets I did as a child, and to see the house where I’d lived for eight years. It wasn’t what I expected. So much had changed. None of my friends were even still in the area, and they’d torn down the school I attended. Even the house looked different, smaller somehow.”

  He had a feeling she didn’t talk about this much with anyone, and the realization touched him. He tucked her hand into his arm and turned her toward the main building. “I can’t offer much in the way of dinner, but I make a mean deli sandwich, and I’ve got chips. Sound tempting at all?”

  “After that workout, I could eat one of these rocks.” Her rumbling stomach punctuated her words, and she laughed. “See?”

  He shortened his steps to match her stride. “You nervous about starting work next week?”

  “A little. I’ll have to prove myself to the other dispatchers even though I’ve been doing it for years. A dispatcher’s shift is spent praying for boredom because a true emergency can leave you scarred for life. It could be a kid who found her mother dead of an overdose or a woman screaming for help as the man who promised to love and protect her beats her brains out.”

  He grimaced and opened the do
or to the outfitter’s shop. “Why do you do it then?”

  Color ran up her neck. “I like to help. It’s a pretty lame excuse, I know, but it’s all I’ve got. When the worst happened to me, I wished I had someone to talk to, but everyone was so focused on finding my parents that I sat in the corner by myself for four days. I often follow up with the callers and stop by to see them. It’s not much, but it’s something. And isn’t that all any of us can do in this life—what we can?”

  Her earnest expression touched his soul. He needed to do more of that himself.

  CHAPTER 11

  Bree chose not to say anything about Emily’s new hair color as the fifteen-year-old let her into the house. “Good morning, honey. How’s Naomi doing?” It was hard to keep from staring at the pink hair.

  From the entry she could see into the living room, which for once didn’t look like a tornado had scattered toys. Naomi’s golden retriever, Charley, tail swishing, came to greet her. Samson whined, and the two dogs sniffed noses.

  Emily kept the door open after letting Bree inside. “She’s fine. Cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast. I’ve got to run to catch the school bus. My brothers are already waiting.” She tossed her hair a bit as if gauging Bree’s reaction.

  The girl was probably already turning heads. Slim but curvy, she had a vivacious personality that matched her usually dark curls and beautiful complexion. Today she wore leather boots over slim-fitting jeans and a pink parka that fought with her hair for dominance.

  Bree might as well take pity on her. “Did you color your hair yourself? Nice pink shade.”

  “Mom helped me. Dad threatened to lock me out of the house, but Mom intervened, and he didn’t have the heart to say no to an injured woman.” Emily flashed an impudent grin, then waved good-bye and shut the door.

  Naomi’s voice floated from the kitchen. “I’m in here, Bree.”

  Bree kicked off her boots and went to find her with both dogs trotting after her. Still in red pajamas and fluffy bear slippers, Naomi loaded the dishwasher. Her light-brown hair was in its usual long braid, and she looked bright eyed and happy.

  The kitchen smelled totally yummy with cinnamon and berries. Bree snatched a partial pancake before Naomi could deposit it in the trash. “Don’t waste it!” It was mostly cold, but the thimbleberry jam made up for it.

  Naomi shuddered. “I’ll make you a hot one.”

  “But the thimbleberry jam would be lost.” She licked her fingers. “I’d take some coffee though.”

  “It’s fresh.” Naomi poured coffee into a pretty blue mug and handed it to her.

  Bree went to the table, still sticky with the kids’ breakfast. Charley and Samson lay at her feet, the picture of perfect contentment. Bree felt that way herself sitting here in the warm kitchen with her best friend.

  Bree took a sip of her coffee. “Coffee always tastes better in a blue mug.”

  “Which is why that’s all I have in my kitchen.” Naomi took her own mug of coffee to join Bree at the table. “What are you doing here so early? You caught me still in my jams.”

  “Just checking on you. You remember anything else about your fall?”

  They’d been best friends for years, and Naomi had been her right-hand girl with SAR training. They’d been each other’s confidante through romance and marriage and had been there for one another when their children were born.

  “I sort of remember that scarf you all talked about. I can’t remember much about it. I thought for sure my memory would come back.”

  “Let’s go through everything you remember.” Bree sipped her coffee. “You parked along the road, right?”

  A frown crouched between Naomi’s blue eyes. “Yes, near the cutoff for the lake.”

  “Did you put on your hat, zip up your coat? Let’s go step by step.”

  “I wore my red sock hat and gloves. It was super cold on the walk out to the top of the falls. When I reached the site, I–I.” She rubbed her head. “It’s almost there. I just can’t quite grab it.”

  “You often drop articles of clothing on the way to where you want to hide. Did you do that or make it harder?”

  “That’s it!” Naomi’s eyes sparkled. “I went to the top of the waterfall to drop a spare glove I’d worn the day before. I put another one back in the trees to lead them astray and make it a little harder. That’s when I saw the scarf on the aspen tree branch. I started to pick it up, then I heard the dogs barking and knew I’d better hide. I went to my spot.” Her smile faded. “Uh-oh.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t fall. I heard something behind me, then it was lights out. I think someone hit me. I heard someone running toward me, feet crunching through the ice, but I didn’t get a chance to even turn around.”

  “So it could have been Garret. Think back. What did you hear, smell, feel?”

  Naomi reached for a partial piece of bacon still on the table and popped it into her mouth. Her gaze took on a faraway glint as she chewed. “I smelled wood smoke like he’d been near a fire.”

  Dead end. But at least Dana had identified the scarf as belonging to Garret. That might be enough.

  The warm scent of something cinnamony and sweet hit Boone’s nose as soon as Dana opened the door. “Whoa, what smells so good?”

  She’d changed into jeans and a V-neck top in royal blue that made her eyes look deep and mysterious. Her brown curls looked still damp and curled around her head. “Homemade cinnamon rolls. I figured if you were going to work hard, the least I could do was feed you.”

  He deposited his coat into her outstretched hand and looked through the doorway into the living room. “Doesn’t look like you’ve made any changes yet.”

  “Wait until you see upstairs. This floor is Chris’s domain, and I don’t want to touch it even though he said I could. I want it to still feel like his haven when he walks in.”

  Boone flexed his arm. “Let’s get to it so I can have one of those rolls.”

  “Oh, I was going to give you all you wanted before I work you like a mule. They’re best when they’re warm.” She gestured to the door to the kitchen. “Lead the way.”

  As he stepped into the kitchen, he heard the soundtrack to Phantom of the Opera playing in the background. “Music of the Night” was one of his favorites. “A Phantom fan, I take it? Is that why you named your dog Phantom?”

  She shrugged. “Well, he was black and the other yellow labs shunned him. It made me think of Phantom’s rejection by society.”

  He snagged a still-warm cinnamon roll and bit into it. “Wow, these are great.”

  She smiled and reached for one too. “It’s my favorite movie. You’d think having watched it so much would have protected me from being attracted to a bad boy like Garret.”

  “So what attracted you?”

  She paused, and a line of puzzlement marred her forehead. “It was his focus, I think. At first it was like there was no one in the world except me. After my aunt and uncle adopted me, I always felt just a little bit invisible. They had Chris, the golden boy who was good at everything. I was average. Average grades, average athletic ability, average looks.”

  Hardly average with those gorgeous eyes, but he bit back the observation. “And Garret looked harder.”

  “It was just an act. I found that out soon enough.” She fussed with her hair again, pushing it out of her face.

  “I like your curls, but you hate them, don’t you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I hate the way it frizzes. How’d you know?”

  “You’re always shoving at it.” He reached over and gently tucked a stray lock behind her ear. “You could treat it with respect. It’s cute. So what about Garret? Did you realize he was one of those bad boys right from the beginning but you couldn’t help yourself?”

  She shook her head. “He seemed a dream come true at first.”

  “Sometimes the bad apples are hard to recognize.”

  The smile faded in her eyes. “You say that like you have e
xperience. Maybe we have something in common?”

  He wasn’t ready to talk about Esther. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. So what about the whole Phantom thing. Why’s it your favorite?”

  “Does there have to be a reason beyond the awesome music?” An adorable dimple appeared in her right cheek.

  He wanted to run his thumb over it. “There usually is.”

  “You’ll mock me.”

  “Never.” He put his hand over his heart.

  “I know it’s silly, but I just love the way it portrays love as lasting a lifetime. Both men loved Christine all their lives, but one with an obsession and the other with a love that wanted what was best for her.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes. “I want to make sure I know the difference.”

  “When you find the secret to that, let me know, okay? Like I said, it’s hard to tell the difference.”

  Her blue eyes went somber. “I think the signs are there if we look for them. I didn’t, did you? For example, I ignored how Garret only talked about how I looked on the outside. I skimmed over his insistence on seeing the movie he wanted and going where he wanted for dinner. He rarely asked me what I wanted, and the few times I voiced an opinion, he sulked for the rest of the evening. I just didn’t pay attention.”

  Esther’s beautiful face flashed into his mind. She’d been all about showing him off and talking about how brave he was to fight fires. She’d always wanted her own way too. “Good lesson.” He swallowed the last of the cinnamon roll. “What do you have planned for me this afternoon?”

  “What’s your view on painting? Love it or hate it?”

  He normally would have said he’d rather take any job but painting, but heaven help him, he wanted to see that dimple again. “Middle of the road. What are we painting?”

  “My bedroom. I like the gray green color, but it’s marked and faded. If I don’t get it painted before I start work, I’ll be stuck with it until at least next weekend.”