A Reason To Live (Reason #3)

by CP Smith

  “Well, we don’t have time for that. We gotta get to the grocery store, the lumberyard, the post office, Last Call, find you a job, and then head to any other place I can think of while I’m out. Oh, and we need to stop by the police station so you can talk with Chester.”

  “You have to go to all those places today?”

  “And any other place I can think of while I’m out.”

  “Wow. Well, I don’t want to hold you up, so I can head to the police station on my own and look around for a job.”

  “NO!”

  “No?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “I’m confused again.”

  “Maybe you need some bran in your diet?” she offered.

  “For confusion?”

  “Yeah, it helps clear you out so you can think. Now, jump to it, missy. Daylight’s a wastin’.”

  “Maxine, there are close to twenty hours of daylight this time of year. How is it wasting?”

  “Did you not hear how long my list was?” she argued, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Point taken. I’ll get my bag,” I answered.

  Maxine was nuts. My kind of crazy, but crazy nonetheless. I was still confused when we left, though, and I wasn’t sure what about.

  We made it to town ten minutes later. But when I say ‘we made it to town,’ I mean we got there and drove in circles.

  Maybe she has Alzheimer’s?

  “Um, Maxine?”

  “Mm.”

  “Did you forget where you were going?”

  “I’m planning my day accordingly. I don’t wanna waste my time running from one end of town to the other, do I? That’s just time-consuming.”

  Trails End was a quaint town. Almost picturesque in a Norman Rockwell sort of way. Most of the businesses were right on Main Street, housed in log cabin styled buildings with green metal roofs. One end of town backed up to a crystal-clear lake—aptly named Crystal Lake—and the whole area was nestled in between two great mountains. It was picture postcard perfect, but what it wasn’t, was huge. If she traveled from one end to the other several times in her busy schedule, she’d add ten minutes to her day.

  “Tell me about your family, Sage. Are your parents back in Fairbanks? What does your father have to say about all this foolishness with the cops?”

  My heart began to race. The topic of my stepfather always caused a small amount of anxiety because Emma, Momma, and I had spent fifteen years locked in hell with a man who was untouchable.

  Detective Richard Heller came along when my mother was still mourning our father. He insinuated himself into our lives, obsessed with my mother, and married her within six months. The first few years were good until he started drinking to alleviate the stress of his job. Then it wasn’t so good. He was possessive of my mother’s love and hated that she doted on my sister and me.

  The first time he lost control and hit her, she tried to leave with Emma Jane and me. He caught her, and in a fit of rage that terrified us all, he threatened to hunt her down and kill her if she tried to leave him again. She believed him, and I was old enough at that point that I believed him as well, so we stayed and the cycle continued. We never knew when he would binge drink and lose his temper, so we walked around on eggshells when he was around. He could go months without an incident, then something at the department wouldn’t go his way and the Hyde side of his personality would appear.

  Turning to the police for help was out of the question because he was one of them. Richard was a detective in narcotics and on a first name basis with most patrol officers, all the way up the ranks to the lieutenants. He’d covered his tracks by complaining about his rebellious teenage daughter for years. How she hated him and didn’t want him in the house. So any calls that came in from me were handled as a temper tantrum from a rebellious youth, and then punishment afterward was severe. I stopped calling after the second beating.

  If we ran, we knew he would find us because that’s what he did. He could snap his fingers and we’d be hunted down and home within hours. We were trapped. Until one day, when everything began to unravel for him.

  When it came time for me to go to college, I refused to leave Momma and Emma Jane alone with him. So I lived at home, worked part-time, and went to school at nights. Even though money was always tight, my mother had secretly saved for years so she could buy me something special for the day I graduated college. She’d bought diamond stud earrings to signify a bright new beginning and signed the card from her and my father, saying how proud he would be of me if he were alive. Richard found the box, read the card, and lost control.

  When I arrived home from class, I knew something was wrong. The lamps were overturned and the pottery was shattered. I found my mother barely breathing on the floor of their bedroom with my stepfather passed out on the bed, the smell of whiskey heavy in the air. I called 911, and when the paramedics saw the house and my mother’s condition, they called the police. He’d always been careful when he hit us. Just enough to take out his anger, but never enough to send us to the hospital. This time, he couldn’t cover up what he’d done because there were witnesses.

  Mother was able to get a restraining order against him, and he was suspended from the department until he underwent anger management classes. Thus began the next two years of him blaming his suspension on our family and terrorizing us with phone calls.

  Until one day he drank too much and broke the restraining order.

  He picked the lock on our house while we were gone and was waiting for us to come home. Thankfully, we were able to get away from Richard. We called the police and they arrested him. We would finally have our day in court for everything he’d put us through, and he would more than likely do time. However, before he could stand trial for his abuse, he’d gone fishing with some friends on the Tanana River and gotten drunk. He fell overboard into the rushing water and drowned. That was over four years ago and a day didn’t go by that I didn’t think about what he did to my family.

  I hated him. Plain and simple. I also hated talking about him.

  “My mother lives in Anchorage and my father is deceased,” I replied.

  “So you’re all alone back in Fairbanks?”

  Yeah, I was, and I didn’t want to talk about it either.

  What I wanted more than anything was to get out of the Jeep and burn off some of the anxiety that was causing my heart to race at the thought of Richard.

  “Um, Maxine, why don’t we park halfway down and walk. We can drop off your purchases as we pass by your car, then I’ll buy you lunch someplace when we’re done.”

  Maxine looked at me oddly when I didn’t respond to her question, then she gazed at her watch and nodded in agreement. Space had just opened up in front Trails End Rafting Excursions, so she pulled in and parked. I started to open my door to get out when an older, silver-haired man with a barreled chest and ruddy cheeks came out and posted a help wanted sign out front. I was reading the sign stating one should inquire within when I heard Maxine gasp. I looked back to check on her and found her staring at the barrel-chested man. I turned my attention to him and caught him staring at Maxine as a sly grin pulled across his mouth.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Hmm, what?” she responded.

  “Is he a friend of yours?”

  “Who? Gregor?”

  “If the good-looking older gentleman’s name is Gregor, then yes.”

  “He is good-looking, isn’t he?”

  She sighed with appreciation.

  Oh. My. God. Maxine is crushing on this man.

  “Do you like him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. My husband is dead.”

  Um, what? . . .

  “Yes, he is, and I’m sorry about that, but you’re not if you haven’t noticed.”

  Maxine turned her head and looked at me. For once, she didn’t have a witty comeback.

  “Look, he just put up a ‘Help Wanted’ sign, so I think I’ll inquire about the job. You wan
na come with me?”

  She looked back at the man she called Gregor and watched him hang a pot of flowers on his porch. His waist was still trim and you could see his muscles straining as he lifted the plant above his head. Even I had to admit for a man his age he was in great shape. No wonder she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  “I’m going in now,” I said, opening my door.

  “I’ll just wait here,” she mumbled.

  “Suit yourself. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” I replied, then climbed out and shut my door.

  “Excuse me, sir,” I called out to Gregor.

  He gruffed out, “A moment, lass,” in a warm Scottish burr that had Americanized over time, and hung a second pot of flowers on the porch truss. When he was done, he turned to me and smiled.

  Whoa, no wonder Maxine was smitten. His smile would weaken any woman’s knees, no matter her age.

  “Now then, wee lass, what can I do you for?”

  “I, uh, I saw your sign,” I pointed toward his window, still a little dazzled if truth be told. “I’m here for a couple of months or so. It may be longer, may be shorter, but while I’m here, I need a job.”

  “Is that so?” He raised a brow in humor.

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. Tell me, can you cook?”

  “Um, yeah. Are you looking for a housekeeper?”

  “I’m looking for a cook.”

  I looked back at his business sign to make sure I’d read it correctly and noted he indeed ran rafting tours. “But don’t you run rafting trips?”

  “That I do, lass. Gregor MacGregor at your service,” he announced, putting out his hand for me to shake.

  “Sage Sloan.” I smiled and shook his hand.

  “Now then, I am lookin’ for a cook. Typically, I conduct one-day excursions on the river, but I added three-day trips to my itinerary recently. I had my guide’s doin’ the meals but they aren’t the best cooks. So I need someone to cater to the privileged city folk who pay me to take them down the Yukon.”

  “So you’re looking for someone to cook for a large group, three meals a day while on the river?”

  “That be the gist of it. Can you swim?”

  “I can swim.”

  “Ever run the rapids?”

  “No, but I’m not afraid to try and I’d love to learn.”

  “Then you’re hired.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. I’ll have one of the guides take you to the river and teach you the basics before our first trip.”

  “Thank you, so much. My life’s been a little . . . off-balance recently, so this is just what I needed.”

  “Happy to help. Do you have time to fill out the necessary paperwork?”

  “Yes, sure.”

  Gregor motioned for me to lead the way to his office, but not before I caught him looking at Maxine’s Jeep.

  Hmm . . .

  I filled out the necessary paperwork and gave him my number so he could call me later and tell me who would be training me. He gave me a list of meals that worked best on the river. I was to choose what I wanted to cook, and then he would give me his credit card so I could purchase the food.

  “I’ll text you once I find out who’s available. Most of my guides have full-time jobs and work for me on the weekends. I’ll see who has time this week to get you squared away.”

  “When is the next rafting tour?”

  “Not ‘til Friday, so we have a few days to get you water ready.”

  “Okay. Thank you again, Mr. MacGregor,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “I appreciate you giving me the job.”

  “Happy to have you, lass. But please, call me Gregor. Any friend of Maxine’s is a friend of mine,” he answered, jerking his head toward Maxine’s Jeep.

  I don’t know why I said it; it just slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “You should ask her out for a drink or something.”

  “Pardon?” he replied, confused.

  “You should ask Maxine out for a drink or dinner.”

  Gregor’s face softened and he looked at Maxine before he shook his head. “As much as I’d love to do that, she’s off-limits.”

  “Off-limits? Why?”

  “Because, lass, she is the Queen of Trails End and her King is dead. The court jester does not court a grieving Queen.”

  I looked back at Maxine for a moment, wondering how far I should push the matter. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I thought and then whispered, “Maybe the Queen is looking for the court jester to sweep her off her feet?”

  “Aye, she might. But the Prince of Trails End would run him out of town if he so much as looked at his mother.”

  Max . . . Hmm.

  “Gotcha. I’ll think on that,” I smiled.

  “You do that, lass. In the meantime, I’ll find a guide who’s free and call you later.”

  “Right. Later, Gregor,” I smiled, then turned toward Maxine’s Jeep.

  When I opened my door to see if she was ready, I caught the tail end of a conversation she was having on the phone.

  “That’s correct. Sage just got hired by Gregor.”

  “Maxine, who are you talking to?”

  She hung up quickly and smiled.

  “Martha. I was, uh, just gettin’ an update on Cowboy.”

  “On the bear?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m confused again. Is he hurt or something?”

  “A little bent, but not broken. He’ll be right as rain once he settles with the right female.”

  “Well, is Mia bringing in a female from someplace else?”

  “Nope, the one he wants is already here.”

  “Then what’s the holdup?”

  “Cowboy is stubborn. Like my Max.”

  “Must be in the water around here,” I grumbled. Stubborn as a mule was a phrase I’d thought when arguing with Shane.

  Maxine got out of her Jeep and turned in a circle, looking up and down the street. “I think we should start with Smith’s.”

  “Is that the grocery store?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Won’t the food spoil while you’re running your other errands?”

  Maxine looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. She turned and looked up the street again, and it was then I was sure she was having memory problems.

  “Did you bring your list?”

  “List?”

  “Of what you needed to pick up.”

  Her phone rang before she could reply. She held up a finger, answered, listened for a second, and then mumbled, “Right, thanks.”

  “More news on Cowboy?” I asked.

  “Not exactly,” she replied. “Let’s start with the lumber yard,” she stated with enthusiasm then turned and headed down the street.

  Trails End Lumber was also the local hardware store. When we entered, Maxine said she needed a new ax so we headed off down a narrow aisle. She kept looking up one end and down the other, mumbling, “Not this one,” until she stopped and said, “Here we are.” I rounded the corner and saw a good-looking man stocking screwdrivers just ahead. When we reached him, Maxine stopped.

  “Jonah, meet Sage. She just got to town and she’s single,” she stated with no lead-in.

  “Is that so?” he asked as a slow grin pulled across his mouth.

  “You two talk while I get an ax,” Maxine ordered then disappeared around the corner.

  “Um, hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “You work here I take it?”

  “I do.”

  “Great . . . “

  Stimulating conversation.

  “You want to have dinner sometime?”

  Oh, dear lord.

  “Oh, um, that’s very kind of you, but I—”

  I stopped talking when Jonah’s attention shot over my shoulder and the air around us began to hum with energy. I started to turn, but a deep voice filled with anger stopped me.

  “When you’re done askin’ out the new girl, can you get m
e those blades Max ordered?”

  I turned slowly and looked up. Shane was glaring, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he stared Jonah down. Jonah must have felt the anger rolling off Shane in waves because he turned quickly and headed toward the back. Then Shane directed his attention to me.

  “Hi,” I squeaked out. The last time he’d been this close he’d kissed me.

  “Hey,” he answered, still scowling.

  “Fancy bumping into you,” I stupidly, stupidly said.

  “Small town, it’s gonna happen,” he gruffed out.

  I made the mistake of looking at his lips when he spoke and felt the warm burn of blush run up my neck at the memory of what that mouth felt like against mine. When silence passed between us, I looked up and saw the same hungry look on his face I’d seen the night before, and took a step closer.

  “Shane,” I whispered, raising my hand to his arm.

  He stepped back before I could touch him and muttered, “Excuse me,” walking away without another word.

  I followed him with my eyes until he turned the corner and disappeared. Maxine walked up, scowling as well, and grumbled, “Worse.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothin’. They don’t have the ax I wanted, so let’s leave.”

  I turned and looked over my shoulder in the direction Shane had gone, hoping for one more glimpse of the man. He was nowhere to be seen. I turned back and nodded. “Where to next?”

  “My guess would be the post office.”

  “All right, let’s go to the post office.”

  “Though, it could be Smith’s,” she muttered, gazing off into the distance. “Give me a second to think.”

  “No rush,” I quickly answered. While I waited, I made a mental note to ask Mia if Maxine often lost track of what she was doing.

  “Post office,” Maxine finally decided, so I followed her to the door.

  When we stepped outside, a good-looking man was walking toward us and Maxine hollered out to him. He approached with a devilish smile, nodded once at me, saying, “Ma’am,” then wrapped his arm around Maxine’s shoulders and buzzed her with a kiss on the cheek. The man was built like a logger, with muscles as far as the eye could see, and his dark-brown eyes were compelling, crowned with thick lashes that any woman would kill to have.

  “This here is Jake. Jake, this is Sage. Jake works for Max, but most of the time he babysits Mia.”