Bigfoot Believer

by Caroline Lee

  “So here’s where I get to the point.”

  Relief must’ve flickered across Nick’s face just slightly, because Jace’s lips twitched and he shifted Lacey to his other shoulder.

  “Sorry, I’m not used to rambling. But I’m also not used to being in the big brother role, either. Becoming a daddy overnight was weird enough” —he patted Lacey’s bottom again— “but now that Okie’s reappeared in our lives, Dink tells me I have to step up my game and help her. I don’t know how, exactly, but Elf was all-too-willing to give me lessons on how to be a big brother.”

  His eyeroll was slight, but Nick still noticed it. He knew Elf Redfern, the blacksmith in Old Town, was Dink’s big—really big, honestly—brother, and imagined someone as reserved as Jace might find it difficult to gain such a gregarious and good-natured brother-in-law.

  But was this Jace’s point?

  The other man pinched his nose with his free hand and propped his hip against the dresser. “Sorry, I’m rambling again. I did have a point. My point is that I want Okie to be happy, and I think she’s happy with you. I think you make her happy.”

  The thought had Nick straightening away from the doorjamb. He wanted to make her happy, to be the one who made her happy all the time, and he still wasn’t sure why.

  “So I think the two of you need to spend more time together.”

  Jace’s simple statement made Nick’s lips thin, unsure how to go about that. “I do live just downstairs, and I know she likes the same video games I do…”

  The other man smiled, and on someone as reserved as Jace, it was basically a shout of laughter. Nick wondered what he’d done wrong.

  “If this were any other girl—or anyone besides you—I’d laugh at that idea of a date, but I’ll bet both of you would really enjoy that. Maybe order a pizza.”

  Did Jace know he was describing the one evening they’d already spent together? The evening Nick kept reliving? The time with his new friend, hanging out, talking gaming, just chilling? It had been bliss.

  But now that he knew Okie wasn’t just some talented kid, but was a special young woman, lost and a little different…? He wanted—needed—to impress her. He didn’t want to just do something that would make him happy, he wanted to make her happy.

  “What if…” He stared at the basket of folded diapers, furiously thinking. “What if I commissioned some paintings from her? And then took her to the spots where I wanted them? Do you think…do you think she’d be okay with that?”

  Jace nodded thoughtfully. “I think she’d be more than okay with that. I think it would mean a lot to her that you were involving yourself in something which means a lot to her. Any way you could include Bigfoot?”

  With a wince, Nick remembered his deception. The site which had been started as a prank and now had thousands of believers…including the woman he wanted to impress. He sighed. “I could take her to the spots mentioned on the website. She’d probably recognize them and think it was cool to see in person.”

  “Awesome!” Jace nodded, then snuggled his cheek against the top of his daughter’s head. “I think that would be a great idea. You could get the diner to pack a lunch. You’re off on Saturday, right?”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Did you just set me up on a date with your little sister?”

  Jace’s look of shock had to be contrived. “Who, me? Help out a pair of people who obviously like each other, but who didn’t seem to know how to move forward?”

  He straightened and headed towards the doorway. Nick moved out of the way to let the other man pass.

  As he did, Nick muttered, “I think your big brother skills leave something to be desired.”

  On his way down the hallway with the baby, heading towards the sounds of Dink’s laughter from the kitchen, Jace threw a happy look over his shoulder. “I’m going to tell Elf you said that!”

  Nick stood for a moment alone in the bedroom. A date. Saturday.

  A date to go hiking around the mountains, looking at fake Bigfoot evidence. Evidence he was guilty of planting. Evidence the woman he wanted to impress desperately believed.

  Uh-oh.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Okie sat on a log near the edge of an overlook, her tablet on her lap and her stylus in her hand. The view in front of her was just incredible. She’d spent the last two hours totally immersed in her art, creating and recreating and capturing the majesty with bold strokes and small tweaks.

  She was home.

  And what made it better—a hundred and fifty-three times better than the last mountain she drew, by the calculations which had been going on in the back of her mind—was Nick. He sat beside her on the log, his phone in his hand. He’d been playing Clash of Clans, judging from his occasional muttered narration. She liked that she knew exactly what he meant when he yelled about Townhalls and Hog Riders, and had even been able to offer him a few useful suggestions.

  Mostly though, they’d just sat in silence, her painting and him playing. When groups of hikers passed by on the trail behind them, they both ignored the other humans as they focused inward. She liked that neither of them felt as if they had to speak to feel at home with the other.

  Home. Home. Him home.

  It was an odd feeling, to be so comfortable with another human. Especially while she was creating art. Was part of the art.

  Nick hadn’t seemed too interested in being on the mountain. He’d pointed out the spot where one of his friends had found the mysterious clumps of fur which had belonged to Bigfoot, but that’s all he’d said. Instead of lingering, he herded her over to the overlook, pointing out the view of McIver’s Mountain from this angle.

  He was right; it was a great view, and she hadn’t painted it from this angle. And it was pretty cool she was doing it from a spot where Bigfoot had actually been at one point!

  “I think I’m done.”

  It was hard to say when a painting was really done, and if she allowed herself, she could tweak and change forever. But her butt was getting sore, and she knew she’d captured the feeling of the mountain, and that’s what mattered.

  “Let me see.” Nick shifted on the log until his leg was brushing up against hers. “Yeah, that’s…wow. Hmm.”

  Hmm? What did that mean? Did he not like it? Okie’s mind raced, wondering what she’d done wrong, wondering why he didn’t seem to love it. Wondering why his leg touching hers made her feel warm and tingly all over.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked bluntly.

  His chin jerked up, his eyes tearing away from her tablet, meeting hers. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze—couldn’t hold anyone’s gaze—for very long. “You said ‘hmm’ like you weren’t sure.” She compulsively saved for the fourth time, then began to shut down her programs, ready to put away the tablet.

  But his fingers on the back of her hand halted her movements. Her hand hovered over her tablet, unwilling to press the button on the screen because it would mean pulling away from his touch. She stared at the back of his hand, resting so close to hers, the little hairs sprinkling the skin, the clean nails and the little scar at the base of the thumb, and her heart pounded.

  Nice Nick. Nice Nick.

  “Okie,” he said gently, in that comforting voice that said friend to her. “Stop. It’s beautiful.”

  She tore her gaze away from his hand to glance at his face and saw he was serious.

  “I’ve never seen McIver’s Mountain from this spot. I said ‘hmm’ because I was comparing it to the painting you did last week. It’s interesting to see the differences.”

  She frowned and looked out from the overlook. “It’s the same mountain.” Her chin jerked towards the view. “Right there. You’ve been looking at the differences this whole time.”

  He’d told her he’d stopped at the pull-off every morning to look at McIver’s Mountain. So he must know it from that angle—the one from which she’d painted her first painting. But he�
�d been sitting here…surely he’d noticed the differences. And what did he mean, he’d never seen it from this spot? Hadn’t he been up here to examine the Bigfoot evidence?

  Nick shrugged and moved away down the log, leaving her feeling a little empty.

  “I guess I didn’t really see the mountain. Not ‘til you painted it.”

  Well. That was dumb.

  Okie scowled, but wasn’t sure how to express her feelings. Wasn’t sure if she should. Were she and Nick really friends? Could she say something like that to him—tell him it was dumb to stand right here in front of such incredible art, and not really see it until it’d been captured in a painting?

  The internal debate consumed her as she carefully packed her tablet into her backpack with the practiced by-rote motions, and followed him down the mountain trail. She tried to understand how someone could fail to see the beauty in front of him, fail to understand the way art worked…but finally gave up. It wasn’t unusual for her to not understand someone, but it came as a surprise for the first time in a long time—she’d thought she understood Nick.

  That was what Jason had said to her when he’d passed on the invitation and commission from Nick. “You understand him, and he gets you. I think you should go.”

  And since it was what she’d wanted to hear, she went. But was she wrong? Had Jason been wrong? He was certainly taking this “big brother” thing seriously, but it was hard to know what was real and what was just her brain telling her wrong things. Did he really care if she and Nick were friends?

  Yes. Yes yes. Family cares.

  He’d told her that—family cares—three days ago. For the most part, she’d slipped into their lives without making any extra stress. At least, she thought so. Dinners just meant an extra place setting, and Dink didn’t seem to mind. Okie liked this foster sister-in-law of hers, and liked that Dink was so open and welcoming.

  Also, she didn’t tower over Okie like Jason did. So that was a plus.

  And little Lacey? Okie missed Rajah, but he’d never brought her the lightness, the joy, Jason’s new little baby brought. She’d heard all about how he and Dink couldn’t have babies, so they’d applied for adoption, and how the call that Lacey had arrived had been a surprise.

  “We’d been planning on going to trivia that night,” laughed Dink when she’d explained, pretending to nibble on the baby’s toes and make her daughter laugh. “But God works in mysterious ways.”

  Okie’s memories of her childhood were fuzzy, disjointed. It had been a long time before she’d understood how to parse her own feelings and stimuli and survive in a world which wouldn’t take “okie-dokie” for a pat answer. But one thing she did remember was that Jason had been a Bad Boy. Their foster parents had said that many times, and even worse things about him. But he'd never been a Bad Boy to her. To her, he’d just been Jason, and he’d let her be Just Okie.

  And being Just Okie, in a place where and when everyone expected her to be more…it had been special. He’d kept her her back then. Bad Boy or not.

  So it made her happy—really happy—to see him so happy now. He wasn’t a Bad Boy now, any more than he’d been when they were young. He was Good, and apparently a functioning adult, which was something Okie still hadn’t quite managed.

  But the Cunninghams were family, or so Dink declared, and Okie was part of them now. And if Jason thought Nick was a good friend for her, she would trust him. Since she apparently couldn’t trust herself.

  Stupid brain.

  They hadn’t spoken on their way down the mountain, and now Okie sighed heavily to see the ranch stretched out before them. If today had been a date, it was almost over, and she wasn’t sure how she felt. She didn’t want her time with Nick to end, but she also wanted to go back to that comfortable feeling she’d had an hour ago, painting with him beside her.

  She was deep in her thoughts when Nick’s hand brushed against hers, pulling her out of her own brain. The electric spark shot between them, and she clamped down on the urge to stare at the place where their hands had touched. Instead she stared straight ahead, her eyes wide, not wanting to draw attention to what had probably been a complete accident.

  At least, that’s what she thought until it happened again, and before she had the chance to react, Nick grabbed her hand. Her step faltered, until he was almost tugging her along, and she kicked herself to catch up.

  They were holding hands!

  Holding hands, like a—a—a couple or something!

  They were holding hands and walking along on an almost-date through the beautiful spring weather and they were holding hands and she had a new painting which he liked and they were holding hands!

  When she worked up the courage to flick her eyes in his direction, Nick was staring straight ahead. Emphatically staring straight ahead.

  A little flutter of something not-at-all-confusing went through her. She wasn’t good with other people, but then, neither was Nick. Had it been hard for Nick to grab her hand? If it had been, that just proved he’d wanted it. Wanted it very badly.

  Okie smiled so hard and so fast, her cheeks hurt, but it was worth it.

  They walked and held hands across a little field and around a copse of trees. Slowly, Okie’s shoulders relaxed, and she thought Nick’s might’ve as well. Their palms were a little sweaty, clasped together like that, but she didn’t mind. It was worth it to feel that little tingle of electricity.

  A little house came into sight, the odd house with the gnomes and the garden, owned by the rabbits. Only this time there was a lady in the garden. She wasn’t pulling weeds or planting, but rather was squatting on her haunches, waving one finger in the face of the largest gnome statue.

  That doesn’t seem normal. Maybe she is a rabbit.

  Of course, Okie wasn’t the best judge of normal.

  The strange old woman straightened as the two of them drew even with her fence, and when it seemed that Nick would walk on by, she hurried out of the gate and stood in front of them on the path, forcing them to pull to a stop. Okie eyed Nick from under her lashes, hoping for a cue on how to treat this lady.

  “Nick Norego! Do you have something you’ve come to ask me?”

  When Nick didn’t answer fast enough, the old woman turned intent eyes on Okie. She didn’t know what to do or say, but something was obviously expected.

  So Okie lifted Nick’s hand just slightly, and said as brightly as she could manage:

  “We’re holding hands!”

  The major, earth-shattering announcement didn’t seem to bowl over the rabbit-woman, not in the way it still did for Okie. Instead, the old woman just nodded, her eyes never leaving Okie, but spoke to Nick.

  “I can see that. Nicholas, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  Nick swallowed, and glanced between the two females. Finally, he took a deep breath, and nodded. What was he nervous about?

  “Jaclyn, this is my friend Okie Pucklin. Okie, this is Jaclyn. She’s, um…she’s in charge of the RV park. And she’s a matchmaker.”

  He hurried through the last part, and Okie’s eyes widened as she tried to focus on the old lady. Matchmaker? Like someone who matched up two people? Was that why Nick was nervous around her?

  Jaclyn just laughed at his introduction. “Also, resident fairy whisperer and gnome wrangler, you forgot that part, boy!” Her smile was genuine and infectious and confusing. “Do you believe, Okie?”

  Caught in the spotlight, Okie’s curiosity slammed shut, and she took a half-step back in self-preservation. “Believe in what?”

  “In fairies, of course! Or gnomes, or Bigfoot!” The old woman took a step even closer, seeming not to be aware of—or care about—Okie’s confusion.

  It would be rude not to answer… “I painted Bigfoot’s mountain,” was all Okie could think of to offer.

  “Excellent!” Jaclyn laughed. “So you must believe!”

  Must she? Okie had come all the way to Riston, Idaho because she wanted to see where Bigfoot lived.
Nick’s website had been so fascinating, so full of proof and photos and facts. With that sort of information, how could anyone not believe?

  But Nick was looking really uncomfortable at Jaclyn’s question. Did he not want Okie to answer? She tightened her grip on his hand, and he squeezed as well. And they both took a long, deep breath.

  Okie might not know the answer, but at least she was in good company.

  But her lack of answer didn’t seem to faze Jaclyn. The old woman just smiled and waved her hand around. “The fairies and I were in a little tiff recently, and now that they’re talking to me again, I wanted to make sure George didn’t do anything stupid to upset them.”

  George? None of those words made any sense to Okie.

  Jaclyn stepped even closer, peering into Okie’s face. The younger woman shifted uncomfortably, and kept her eyes glued on the woman’s shoulder.

  “But the fairies have been strangely silent about you, my little fey one. I wonder if that’s why?” she asked in a musing voice. “Are you one of them?” she murmured as she stepped even closer.

  “Her website is Puck’s Paints,” Nick blurted.

  The odd statement drew Okie’s confused attention, but Jaclyn burst into laughter.

  “Puck! Pucklin, of course! The pixie from British mythology!”

  Puck? Okie frowned. She’d been thinking of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream when she’d named her website, but it was her name. It wasn’t like she was some fairy sprite just because she shared a name with a mythological pixie.

  Right?

  Wait, no. Surely she’d know if she was a fairy. Surely. Probably. Maybe.

  And then her musings—Musings, confusings, rusings!—were interrupted by Jaclyn. The old woman closed the small distance between them with another step and took Okie’s cheeks in her palms.

  The woman’s touch spread warmth through Okie so quickly she couldn’t jerk away, and her eyes widened.

  “Are you a rabbit?” she blurted, remembering her earlier confusion.

  Jaclyn chuckled. “No, my little nut-brown wood sprite. Are you a pixie?”