by Munn, Vella
“They wanted to give it?”
“Of course. You know how practical their minds are.”
“They were always polite to me.” Distant but polite.
She ran her fingers over her braid followed by pointing. Two chipmunks were glaring at each other from opposite ends of a carrot chunk. He drew a comparison between the carrot’s fate and what Shyla might have felt like, torn between her parents and him. One thing he was sure of, her parents weren’t responsible for their marriage’s failure. They’d done that without help.
“Come on.” He took hold of her hand. “I want to stretch my legs some more. There’s a path. Maybe it goes around the lake.”
She didn’t try to pull free but neither did she put one foot after another. “That would take hours.”
“Please.”
The word must have gotten to her; either that or she wanted to hold his hand. The dusty path skirted the shoreline and was just wide enough to accommodate a single vehicle. Deep tire tracks had him wondering who used it and why. The path would take them past other cabins. At least checking out those structures would give them something to look at while they talked about things they should have years ago.
Talk. Reveal. Could he really do that?
He’d had a few dates over the past year but nothing had clicked. In contrast, having Shyla beside him felt almost right. Darn it, he should have already told her why their divorce wasn’t going to be as cut and dry as she believed. Gotten down to business instead of wasting—
“My folks didn’t disapprove of you,” she said as they stepped from shadow into sunlight and then back into shadow. “They were impressed by your drive, and they wanted me married.”
“They weren’t happy when we eloped.”
“No. Poor Mom. All those years of planning my wedding and we didn’t do the fancy venue, bushels of flowers, seven course dinner, gown with a train thing.”
Shyla hadn’t wanted anything to do with what she called the commercial trappings of a wedding, which had suited him just fine.
“What are you thinking?” she asked as they approached the first cabin, a small two-story affair with a steep metal roof.
He stopped and drew her around so they were face to face. “About the wedding night.”
Her features softened, either that or the dappled daylight was responsible. Their first night as a married couple had been a semi-disaster. They hadn’t reserved a motel room and had wound up at one with a door that wouldn’t lock and rattling water pipes. They’d had dinner at a rundown café and had bought a bottle of cheap wine at the only grocery store.
The sex had been amazing.
“I’m surprised the mattress survived,” she said. “Jes, I need to say something.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” She looked down. “You always knew what I needed in bed. You were, I don’t know, tuned into my body. I tried to return the favor. I hope I succeeded.”
“You did.” Sex was something people did. They didn’t analyze it. Why had she brought that up?
Because they were together in spectacular Montana country. Touching. Talking.
She studied him until he had all he could do not to clutch her to him. To ask if she wanted to go to her cabin and make love.
“I embarrassed you,” she said.
“Not really. I just didn’t expect—”
“It isn’t that, Jes, and I think you know it. You don’t want me digging around in your brain.”
She started walking, compelling him to do the same. What had set her off? It seemed to him they’d touched sensitive subjects more since he’d gotten here than through most of their marriage.
Instead of pointing that out, he contented himself with speculating about who owned the various cabins. Fortunately, she was willing to continue the conversation. They concluded that only people who loved the wilderness would put up with the lack of services, never-ending maintenance, and harsh weather.
Finally, as they studied a structure that resembled a hunting shelter, he took a chance on what had been on his mind while he was coming here. “Do your folks know what today is about?”
“They know the papers have been drawn up. They wanted me to do that months ago.”
“I’m not surprised. They love you and want the best for you.”
“Their version of what’s in my best interest. Jes, they would have swallowed me if I wasn’t so independent.”
“That’s a good thing to be.”
“Up to a point.” She studied the ground. “I’m not sure whether I was hard-wired that way or they forced me into it. Isn’t that a sad way of looking at a parent-child relationship?”
He turned his attention from the mostly green cabin to the lake. It was dancing with the wind, separate from and yet united with its surroundings. As much an anchor for this part of the forest as Mount Lynx was. It was as if the body of water and mountain were partners, parents to everything else here.
“Being an only child can be hard,” he said. “You were their world while you were growing up. Now that you have your own life, they’re lost. They want you to still be their little girl, not concern yourself with their mortality.”
“I never thought—you’re right.”
“What I don’t know,” he admitted, “is how to help you get through to them or if you want to.”
“That isn’t your job. It’s mine.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “How did you get so wise?”
“Believe me, I’m not.”
Chapter Five
The last thing she’d expected today was to feel comfortable in Jes’s presence. However, comfortable wasn’t the only thing she was feeling. Being turned on factored in. The responsibilities and concerns that came with being an adult had stopped concerning her as she’d neared Lake Serene. She’d expected that to change once her husband arrived. It had to some extent only not as much as she’d feared.
She’d also feared he’d be a stranger but so far he wasn’t.
Walking on a path that needed a dog on it to complete the picture, she had no desire to chase the moment. They’d discussed her parents and she was willing to do so in more detail if he wanted to but hopefully they’d debate how to sneak up on an elk herd, and what to look for when choosing footwear for mountain climbing. They might check to see if there were any ducks close enough to take pictures. Eventually they’d turn around. Once they were back at the cabin, they’d sit and wait to see if some deer showed up. They might return to discover a squirrel and bird convention.
Simple pleasures. Simple activities. With the man who’d once gotten her and in many respects still did.
No. They were here to end things. Read the last chapter and close the book. Move on. Let him go.
Put today in her memory box.
Go through the rest of her life still caring about this man who’d replaced her with a dog. Getting one herself and maybe figuring out what it took to get into the dating game.
Blinking back tears, she drew her hand free and crouched so she could take a picture of some deer hoof prints. When she was finished, she accepted his offer of a hand up followed by trying not to put too much into what he was doing when he tucked his hands in his back pockets.
“Parents both enrich and complicate lives.” She observed as she headed toward the closest dock. “Aunt Christina had to parent her father and then her mother and finally her husband. Hopefully it won’t come to that with my folks.”
“The older they get the more they’ll need you.”
“One problem is my folks clam up when I ask for medical details.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said as they stood at the top of four wooden steps leading down to a badly weathered dock. “They’ll talk politics and finance all day. Personal stuff’s something else.”
Like you.
Like both of us.
“One thing about your dad,” Jes continued as she struggled to acknowledge her admission, “he was genuinely interested in what I was doing.”
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“Yes, he was.”
He sighed. “I just wish...”
“What?”
“That he and I could have gotten closer.”
She could have brought up the not so minor issue of Jes having become number one in her life and her dad having to accept that but she didn’t want to talk about that. Truth was, she was content to stand where she was while soaking in the peaceful setting—except it wasn’t that simple.
Jes was here. Jes of the knowing hands and complicated personality.
Tired of herself and her thoughts, she started down the steps. When she placed her hand on the railing, it wiggled. “Be careful,” she told Jes. She waited until she reached the dock before continuing. “I don’t know why they haven’t secured the railing. Someone might get hurt.”
“Accidents happen,” he said from behind her.
A person who didn’t know Jes wouldn’t get the weight of his response but she did. He was speaking from firsthand experience, saying as much as he could. After her husband had died, Jes’s mother had become cautious, trying to protect her girls and leaning on her oldest child. Jes had a somewhat fatalistic attitude. He embraced today because that might be all he’d have. Maybe that was why he hadn’t tried for a reconciliation.
Wondering where her wisdom, if that was what it was, had come from, she studied him as he descended. There wasn’t anything remarkable about what he was doing and yet she would never forget this moment or where they were.
“Jes? Have you ever wondered if you would have wound up doing something else if your father had lived?”
“Where did that come from?”
I’m not sure. “We were talking about my parents’ influence on me, on both of us.”
“He didn’t live.”
His dad had been the next thing to a forbidden subject between them. When she was getting to know him, she’d asked for details, but Jes had kept that door locked. His mom had said he’d been like that since they’d gotten the news.
She should have known better than to try to pull more out of him today.
“All right. Have it your way.”
He didn’t respond, reminding her this was what had made living with Jes hard. His body had always been there for her, his emotions not so much.
Either that or he wasn’t a deep man.
No, it wasn’t that.
A splash provided her with the distraction she needed. “A fish jumping,” she said unnecessarily as she readied her camera.
She spent awhile trying to capture the fish as it thrust its silvery body out of the water. She wasn’t sure she’d succeeded, but she got some shots of large iridescent blue dragonflies around the railing. Maybe the contrast between their vibrant color and the muted water would warrant being included in the brochure.
“How’s it going?” Jes asked.
Startled, she realized she had no idea how long Jes had been waiting for her. “I’m sorry. I sometimes lose track of time when I’m doing this.”
“That’s all right. I enjoyed watching you.”
Did he mean it? Probably, since Jes was a terrible liar. “What would you like to do?” She swallowed. “Maybe—get signing the divorce papers over with.”
“Yeah,” he whispered and again jammed his hands in his pockets. “About the damned things.”
Being around him had her on an emotional roller coaster. One moment everything was easy, the next tension tightened around and threatened to choke her. She’d been wrong to think moving away and letting twelve months pass would change how she felt where he was concerned. Bottom line he would always make her feel.
He stood between her and shore, challenging her with his body. “A justice of the peace got us married, but it’s taking lawyers to reverse things,” he said. “Why? Aren’t we capable of making decisions that affect only us?”
“I tried to make it as simple as possible.” She walked past him and started up the stairs. Just because their arms had brushed was no reason to lose her equilibrium.
To want.
She waited until they were back on the path and heading for the cabin she was using before continuing. “The house is yours. I don’t want you to have to sell it so we could split the proceeds. Eventually my folk’s place will be mine.”
“That has nothing—”
“Yes, it does. Your family went through hard times following your dad’s death.”
“Yes,” he muttered. “We did.”
There’d been a haze in the sky, but now it was so achingly blue she nearly cried just looking at it. The sky went on forever. Mother Nature had gotten it right.
She just needed to remain in that emotional space.
“The house has gone up in value,” he said at length. “I asked a realtor to appraise it. In fact I brought along a copy of what she gave me.”
He’d been preparing to sever ties. “I’ll look at the report,” she told him. “But that won’t change anything. Giving you the house is the right thing for me to do.”
“Because you walked out on me.”
Darn you. “If you want me to say I’m trying to make up for how I handled things at the end, you’re right. I’ve regretted a lot about that, but I was pretty messed up. Does that make you feel better?”
Still walking, he angled toward her. “I didn’t come here to try to make you apologize or force you to feel guilty.” He paused. “I haven’t done the best job of keeping the place up or it would be worth more.”
How many times in the past year hadn’t she been able to sleep for wondering whether he was walking alone through the rooms of a house that had once known love? She’d suggested he use the place as a rental only to have him tell her he could make that decision on his own.
Beyond caring about the ramifications, she touched his shoulder. He stopped. Trembling a little, she returned his stare while keeping her hand on him. She knew that warmth so well, the heat and life of him, how his voice deepened when they were naked together.
I loved you so much. A part of me still does. “Please don’t take the high road. I understand if you want to hear me beg for forgiveness.” Her throat was tight. In contrast, her body was becoming looser, soft and primitive. Hungry for something she had no right to. “But I won’t say I made a mistake by leaving. Jes, I needed—too much of the time I felt as if I was the only one living there.”
He placed his hand over hers. “And now I am. Funny how that turned out.”
“There’s nothing funny—”
“Let it go.” He pulled away.
“I’m trying.”
Chapter Six
Shyla was leaning against a tree. As a consequence, she was half hidden in shadow. He sat in a lawn chair a short distance away, tossing one peanut at a time into a thicket of seedlings. She’d given him enough details about the brochure that he understood the lodge owner trusted her to produce his vision. He wondered if the man would change his mind if he saw her this afternoon. Yes, her camera was at the ready but she’d taken countless pictures, snapping off one shot after another, acting as if she was trying to become one with their surroundings instead of capturing something memorable. Dismissing him.
No, he amended as she rubbed her back against the tree. She hadn’t forgotten about him any more than he’d been able to forget her.
“You still turn me on,” he whispered. “Still bring me to life.”
She looked in his direction. “Did you say something?”
Nothing I dare tell you. “That maybe deer don’t come around the cabins.”
Disappointment tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Why wouldn’t they?” She pushed off the tree. “Darn it, I’d love to see a fawn.”
He waited to speak until she’d sat in the chair near his, placed her camera on her lap, and picked up the glass of iced water he’d brought out of the cabin for her. “Is this the only project you’re working on?”
“In other words am I going to be able to pay next month’s bills?”
“No,” he nearly sn
apped. “That isn’t what I was going to say. I just want to know more about what you’re doing.”
Seriously? Her expression seemed to say.
Seriously, he silently replied.
After downing most of the water, she explained that thankfully she had semi-steady work with the local school district. In addition to taking student pictures, she was an advisor for students working on the high school’s annual. Because of word of mouth she covered at least two weddings a month and was being called on to provide visual documentation of events ranging from wine tastings to crafts fairs.
“I do a lot of running around and take a lot of pictures of smiling people. That’s why the Lake Serene project appealed to me.”
The longer he was here with her, the more connected he felt with their surroundings which surprised him because memories of being in places like this with his father had always complicated things. Today, Dad-thoughts comforted him. Maybe that was because Shyla’s presence sanded away the hard edges.
The desire—hell, the need to tell her about the decision he’d been wrestling with and the role she played in it backed up inside him, but the timing wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure what constituted right but it wasn’t in the middle of Shyla telling him about the life she’d carved out for herself.
The life without him.
“You like what you’re doing,” he said. “I get that. But what about the rest of the time?”
“There isn’t a whole lot of rest. I keep pretty busy. You know what being self-employed is like.”
He briefly closed his eyes. “What about your personal life? Is there a man in it?”
She turned her attention to the treetops. Now the breeze was full of energy, making the evergreens dance with it. Studying her anchored him. At the same time having her so close made him question what he’d told himself about having emotionally moved past her.
“There’s no man,” she said.
A sensation he refused to label washed over him. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I haven’t been looking,” she said after a short silence.
“Do you think you should?”