by Davis, SJ
“How far is it to the nearest dump?” she asked the real estate agent.
“It’s back in Monson. About an hour away, round-trip.”
“It’s not open seven days a week, is it?”
The realtor shook her head. “Two afternoons, from twelve ‘til five.”
Lena sighed as she made some calculations. It would take her the better part of a month to get rid of the garbage and fix up the cabin even if she hired help. She stepped back over the ubiquitous plastic bags and stood on the front porch, facing the pond.
“At least the place looks like it’s structurally okay,” Marge called from the yard. “Except for the roof on the southern exposure, it’s in pretty good shape.”
“What about the pond?” Lena asked. There had to be something positive to counteract the disappointment of the interior.
Marge extracted a paperback book of Maine’s lakes and ponds and flipped it open to page three. “Let’s see…it’s called Blackwater Pond, but as you can see, it’s more like a small lake. According to the statistics, it has a maximum depth of ninety-one feet. That means it’s glacial and probably spring-fed. It’s approximately half a mile across at the fattest point and about a mile and a half long.” She turned the book slightly and pointed at the dock. “Right here in front of us the water depth drops to over thirty feet. Over by the boat ramp it’s eighteen.”
Lena took a tentative step onto the dock, found it stable, and continued to the end.
“Do you fish?” Marge asked.
“I used to.”
“You’ll find Brook Trout, Togue, White Perch, and Cusk in these waters.”
“Togue?”
“The high-fallutin’ name for Lake Trout. You probably caught them ice fishing as a kid.”
Lena nodded. She had.
Chunks of ice were jammed against the pilings of the dock. Lena found a spot of open water and squinted into the depths, unable to make out the bottom. “The swimming should be good,” she commented.
Marge smiled. “The interior notwithstanding, the rest of the package is an easy sell. Besides, it really wouldn’t take that long to clean the place up, especially if you hired a guy with a pick-up truck to help you.”
“Do you know somebody who’ll do that kind of work?”
“I’ve got a whole drawer full of somebodies back at the office, but I’d recommend Bernie Morris’s boy, Jake. You used to run around with him as a kid, didn’t you?”
Lena nodded.
“I thought so. He’s a good carpenter and he’s fast and fair.” She looked back at Lena and frowned. “Didn’t you date him for a while?”
“No, he dated my best friend, Diana Janson. Still does, off and on.”
“Well, I said he was a good carpenter, I didn’t say he had much common sense.” She looked at her watch and shook her head. “Speaking of which, I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten. I’d better get going or I’ll be late for my meeting. Do you have any other questions?”
Lena shook her head and Marge handed her two keys. “The first is for the camp and this other is for the gate. Feel free to walk around the property for as long as you’d like. It’s been surveyed and you’ll find blue tags marking the boundaries. Just lock up behind you and drop the keys back at the office when you’re done.” She handed Lena her card and turned back toward the overgrown driveway. “Call me if you and Alex want to discuss anything further, particularly if you decide to make an offer. Like I said, the man who looked at it Saturday might very well want it, and I have a feeling that the first good offer will be accepted.”
“Do you have time for one last question, Marge?”
“Sure.”
“You said that there’s another cabin on the lake. Where, exactly, do you know?”
Marge pointed at the dock. “Almost directly across the water. It’s fairly new so it’s set back from the shore. LURC regulations, you know. The owners live in California and haven’t been east in a few years. They usually rent it out seasonally.”
“How is it accessed? By water?”
“You’ll see their road on your way back. It’s a left that spurs off your driveway just before you turn back onto the Foss Mountain Road.” She tapped her finger against the face of her watch. “I’ve really got to run, Lena. Jot down a list of questions and stop by the office on your way in if I can help you with anything else.” She gave a quick wave and disappeared around the bend toward her truck.
Left alone, Lena walked back down the dock. The fact that the little cabin was a festering pit of trash was of little consequence once she was outside; the view of the mountains and the lake more than made up for it. She did a mental calculation. $360,000…if she and Alex could talk the owners into taking $320,000 they could buy the property with the money from her father’s insurance and still have enough left over to renovate.
She made a preliminary list of the improvements they’d have to make: obviously, she’d have to get rid of the garbage inside. After that, they’d need a new outhouse and a shed for a generator. New appliances and a partial roof were also necessities. Then, if her money held out, they could think about expanding the cabin slightly…maybe screen in the porch to keep out the bugs. She reclined on the dock and let the sun bathe her skin, imagining the complete transformation of the property as she tried to concoct a way to convince Alex of its value.
The sun was low in the western sky when she finally sat up and whistled for Zephyr. A minute later, he appeared beside her, growling softly.
“What’s the matter, boy?” she said, scratching him behind the ear.
The dog growled again, his attention focused on the woods across the pond.
Raising a hand to block the sun’s rays, Lena squinted, searching the area for signs of life. A flash of light caught her by surprise. She blinked rapidly and resumed her scrutiny. Between the trees she could just make out the logged side of another cabin set far back from the water in the shadows. The flash came again, like the glint of sunlight off glass and her skin rose in goosebumps. Above her head, the lone hawk cried as it made another pass, and she shivered in the fading heat of the spring afternoon. Zephyr growled again, the sound long and low in his throat, his fur on-end. She had the distinct impression that she was being watched.
A minute later, with no other flashes, she shook her head and cursed her over-active imagination. “It’s nothing,” she told him, gathering up her purse and the keys. “Just the sun flashing off that other building.”
Slipping on her jacket, Lena retreated, leaving the little cabin behind in the twilight.
***
Across the pond, a telescope focused on the slender frame of the young woman as she crossed the snow-covered clearing. The God was pleased. Annie’s description of her friend was apt: she was petite, dark-haired, and pretty. Lena Walker. Selene Walker. She had the name and the looks. She fit the mold, just like Annie did herself.
He followed her approach to the derelict driveway, his hands clutching the barrel of the telescope while he hummed softly. Her dark hair swung behind her in one long braid that moved in an arc with every step.
Lena…Selene…the Goddess of the moon.
At the wood’s edge, she turned toward him, a hand pressed against her forehead in the fading light. He continued to watch as she bent to pick up a stick, threw it for her dog, and disappeared from view.
The God smiled as he watched her go. He didn’t believe in coincidence. He walked around the property for the third time. Cabin, bunkhouse, dock, and kayaks. It was extremely private, it was for rent, and it was fully furnished. With a little work, he’d make it secure, and once it was secure, he’d take the next step. He closed his eyes imagining the rest: how he’d win her, how he’d take her. How her body would feel pressed beneath his, her eyes wide and wild with despair.
Of course there was always the possibility that she’d decide not to buy the property.
He shoved the notion aside as he continued to take stock of the rental. She would buy
the property, he sensed it. He smiled again as he stepped into the bunkhouse and took a mental count of the supplies he’d need: 2x4s, nails, heavy gauge chains, composting toilet, and batteries. Another cache of pharmaceuticals.
It would be okay; it would all go as he planned. He knew it would. It always did.
Chapter 4.
“This is it.” Lena left the message on Alex’s voice mail when she got back within cell phone range. “The camp needs some work, but the property’s gorgeous. It’s private with a beautiful lake and views that’ll take your breath away. I’m almost back in Greenville. Annie and I have a date for drinks at The Swan. Call me.”
She flipped her phone closed as she pulled into the motel. Inside her room, she poured a bowl of kibble for Zephyr and took a minute to shake her hair loose. It fell in dark brown waves, heavy and long to her waist. She ran a brush through it quickly and applied lipstick. Changing her shirt, she ditched the duck boots for cowboy boots and surveyed herself in the mirror. Despite the long drive and the hike through the woods, she decided she didn’t look half bad. Satisfied, she locked the door behind her and drove back to town to meet Annie.
Her friend was seated at a table in the corner when she entered the bar. She made her way through the room and pulled out a chair opposite.
“How was Blackwater Pond?” Annie said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Did it turn out to be the Shangri-La of the Great North Woods?”
“It’s not perfect, but it could be with a little elbow grease.” Lena tried to keep her enthusiasm in check as she described the camp to her best friend. “It’s been let go just enough to give us some wiggle room price-wise, but believe me, it’s got definite potential.”
“What about Alex?” Annie said. “Is he coming up to see it?”
Lena shrugged. “I hope so. I don’t think he’d let me make an offer without going over the property with a fine-toothed comb, even if it is my money we’re spending.” She ordered a scotch and soda from the waitress and frowned. “I just have to figure out a way to get him to see past all the garbage inside.”
Annie’s nose wrinkled. “Literally, garbage?”
Lena nodded. “The whole place is full of it.”
“Can you afford to hire someone to clean it out for you?”
“It depends on how much we can talk the owner down on the price. Alex doesn’t want to take out a mortgage.”
Annie crunched an ice cube as she flagged down the waitress for another drink.
“Diet Coke?” Lena said as Patty moved away. “What’s with the soda?”
Annie shrugged. “I’m on a health kick. I’ve given up alcohol for a while.”
“Since when?”
“It’s been a few weeks now. I got tired of feeling crappy every morning. Alex must be selling a lot of books these days to let you spend your dad’s money on a second home.”
“He is,” Lena said. “Finally. The Seasons Trilogy turned into a quad. He signed a contract for the fourth book last November. Spring’s Promise is going to print at the end of September and Lifetime Network’s in the middle of signing the rights for the movies.”
Annie whistled. “That’ll bring in the bucks.”
“That’s not all…he’s got a new agent, Amanda James from The Rothstein Agency in New York. She’s negotiating between Vintage and HarperCollins for another four-book deal.”
“So Alex finally made it to the big time, huh?” Annie shook her head. “To tell you the truth, it doesn’t surprise me…that chick lit shit he writes is all the rage right now.”
Lena nodded. “Second only to vampires and zombies.” She pushed her chair away from the table and crossed her legs, sipping her drink. “Alright, I’ve told you about Blackwater Pond, now it’s your turn. You said you had some news.”
Annie blushed and leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course,” Lena said. “I’m your best friend.”
The bartender leaned closer. “I met someone,” she whispered.
“I knew it! Is it anyone I know?”
“Shhh.” Annie shook her head. “He’s a flatlander. He’s only been in town a couple of months.”
Lena frowned. “That’s great…but why the secrecy?”
“Jake doesn’t know about him yet,” Annie admitted. “Our last break-up was the worst yet. I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound.” She picked up her empty glass and placed it back on the cocktail napkin in front of her. “That’s why I want to keep this between you and me…Jake’s still around and I don’t want to hurt him, particularly if this new thing turns out to be just another flash in the pan.”
Lena shook her head. “After all the years and all the fights and all the break-ups, he still hasn’t given up on you.”
“I’m afraid not,” Annie said. Her blush deepened and she smiled. “But Lena…this new guy? He’s the real deal. I think I might be in love.”
Lena leaned closer. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell. We were snowshoeing on the Appalachian Trail when we met in February. He asked me to his place for dinner afterward and the rest’s history.” She reached across the table to take Lena’s hand. “Promise you won’t tell, okay? We don’t need the entire population of Greenville in our business, much less, Jake Morris.”
“Promise,” Lena said. “Where does he live?”
“On Burnt Jacket Road. He’s looking for a summer rental.”
“He’s spending the whole summer here? What is he, rich?”
“Uh-uh. You know the development Wild Heights Timber’s proposing?”
“The one up past Lily Bay?”
“Yep. He’s a botanist. Opponents to the plan hired him to look for rare plants on the site. If he can come up with any, it might be enough to shut the whole project down.”
Lena shook her head. “He’s not a popular guy around town, I take it.”
“It depends on who you’re talking to. I think he’s a hero.”
“Well, the way I see it, your “hero” had better watch his back when he’s strolling past Big Moose Properties and Indian Hill Market, Diana. A lot of folks around here are counting on the business that development could bring to town.”
“Bigger isn’t always better,” Annie said. “Just as many people around here want the project squashed.”
“I never knew you to be anti-development,” Lena said. “This guy must really be something to have turned your politics around.”
“He is,” Annie said. “I figure, if I play my cards right, there could even be wedding bells in my future.”
“What?”
“I told you, Lena, I think I love him. I’m about as serious as a girl can get.” She reached to touch the gold Claddaugh ring she wore on a chain around her neck, a habit she’d had since their teenage years. Lena watched her fingers, remembering the day Jake Morris had given it to her back on her seventeenth birthday. At the time, she’d been beside herself with jealousy over the gift and what it signified. Now, the sight of it made her sad.
“Poor Jake,” she said.
Annie nodded. “I guess I should give this back to him, huh?”
“It would be the right thing to do. As long as you’re sure.”
“I am. Absolutely, positively. One hundred percent.” She slid her chair away from the table as she took the check and handed a twenty to the waitress. “Sorry to ditch, but I’ve got a date. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Bring Alex by if he makes the trip north.”
Lena stood and hugged her.
Annie’s eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed as she gathered her purse and jacket. “There’s a full moon tonight,” she said. “Thor says it’s a special time of the month. He’s got a surprise for me. You don’t mind, do you?”
Lena waved her away. “Go on and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She watched as Annie made her way across the room and disappeared into the night. Alone at the table, she felt the effects of the scotch m
ingle with fatigue as the excitement of the day took its toll. Reaching for her coat and purse, she added a few bills to the ones on the table.
Annie was in love. Again.
Maybe this time around, she thought, as she stepped onto the dock, her love would be true. Maybe this time, it would be the kind of love that lasts.
Chapter 5.
Alex’s call came late the next morning. “I’m just passing the Dexter Grocery Barn. I should be in Monson in half an hour.”
Lena squinted at her watch, surprised by the time. “How’d you get up here so fast? I wasn’t expecting you until tonight at the earliest.”
“I put Amanda off for a couple of days and left at two in the morning,” he said. “If the camp’s everything you say it is it won’t last long on the open market. The sooner we place an offer on it, the better chance we’ll have of getting it.”
He’d finally returned her phone call late the night before and agreed to make the trip north to take a look at the place, leaving her to spend a sleepless night as she formulated the best approach to sell him on it. Finally, exhausted, she’d drifted off just as dawn broke over Big Moose Mountain. It was eleven twenty-five; she’d been asleep for six hours. Not even Zephyr’s soft whines had awakened her.
“Okay,” she said, throwing off the covers and heading for the shower. “I’m leaving Greenville right now. The Blanchard Road is off to the left on the outskirts of Monson, just as you crest Tenney Hill. If I’m not already there, wait for me. You’ll never find it on your own.”
“Will do,” he said.
Lena rinsed off, dressed, and let Zephyr out for a quick walk before filling his bowl and loading him into the Jeep. Driving fast, she reached the Blanchard Road just as Alex’s Gold Suburban topped the hill.
“How much gas have you got?” she called when the car stopped and his window cracked open.
“The tank’s at three-quarters. I filled up in Augusta.”