by Kate Sweeney
This was a contentious topic for them. Cara didn’t want this to come between them, but it always seemed to be there, like a corn kernel stuck in the back of your throat that you couldn’t hack up.
“Sometimes, a fight is necessary,” Cara said.
Kim sighed deeply. “I think I’ve stepped over that line once again. Well, enough foreplay.” She leaned over for a long, deep kiss.
Kim pulled back, breathless.
“Someday, you’ll take me seriously,” Cara said.
Kim smiled and kissed her nose. “I do take you seriously. Now let’s quit all this talk and get down to some serious hot messy sex.”
Cara winced. “How romantic.”
“Oh, stop.”
Cara opened her mouth to say something, and Kim gently cupped her breast. Cara groaned and closed her eyes, completely forgetting what she wanted to say.
Chapter 3
Cara could get used to this plane. She ran her fingers over the leather armrest, watching the Chicago skyline fade as the plane climbed higher and higher. She put her head back and smiled. She loved flying. She felt free and peaceful in the sky. The flight would give her time to think of the previous night and Kim.
They’d been dating for some time now, and Cara tried to figure out where it was going. Kim was thirty-nine and a seasoned reporter. However, she transferred from the news desk to the entertainment section and now reviewed the plays and theatrical productions throughout Chicago. How did one go from reporting crime and the news of a big metropolitan city to reviewing plays? Not that reviewing plays was a bad thing. Cara smiled sadly as she looked out the window. Money, that was the answer.
The Sun-Times offered Kim more money than she was making at a competing newspaper. Kim saw dollar signs and took the salary her newspaper couldn’t offer. Now Kim was living downtown in a swanky apartment with connections to all the restaurants and tickets to all the upscale affairs in the city.
Cara took a deep breath, guiltily thinking this was what attracted her to Kim—the connections, the money, the prestige she had now. So, she liked all that. What was wrong with that? she asked herself. So, Cara wanted a better apartment. She liked to eat at the best restaurants, and she liked going to Orchestra Hall to see a concert or a play. She worked hard all day and loved to let her hair down at night. She absently ran her fingertips along the silky lapel of her blouse. She was a dedicated, good reporter. Why was it wrong to want the best things in life?
Shaken from her musings, Cara fastened her seat belt as they landed at the airport in International Falls, Minnesota. The co-pilot helped her with her luggage; she ignored his groan as he lifted it out of the cargo space.
“It’s only two pieces. And I’m not giving you a tip.” She used the shoulder strap for the smaller piece. She rolled the larger one behind her in a defiant huff.
It was sunny and cool as she made her way to the small terminal. At the door, she saw an elderly woman smiling and waving.
“Has to be the mother.” Cara pasted on a smile while waving in return.
“Hello! You must be Miss Pembroke.”
Cara took the offered hand; the friendly shake nearly dislocated her shoulder.
“You must be Mrs. Gavin.”
“Oh, Betty, please. May I call you Cara?”
“Certainly.”
“Let me help you.” Betty didn’t wait for an answer, she took the shoulder bag from Cara. “The car’s right here. So no walking through the terminal.”
It was not a car. It looked like a tank. It was the largest SUV Cara had ever seen. Getting up into this thing was quite an ordeal—she nearly lost a shoe, and they were very expensive heels.
“All set?” Betty was already in the driver’s seat and belted.
Cara struggled, holding on to the grip above the door to pull her in completely.
“I think I’m all in.”
“Wonderful. Off we go!”
Betty pulled out of the terminal, and in a matter of minutes, they were out of any signs of suburbia and surrounded by dense woods and pine trees.
“It sure is woodsy,” Cara said, watching the scenery.
“It is, but it gets better,” Betty said happily.
And Betty was right. Except for the occasional car on the two-lane road, there was little sign of life. But oh, the scenery—and the colors.
“We’re only thirty minutes from International Falls, but you’d think it was a world apart.”
Cara heard her wistful tone. Betty smiled while concentrating on the road.
“So tell me about yourself.” Betty glanced at her. “You have a nice face.”
Cara laughed. “Thank you. There’s not much to tell. Born and raised in Chicago. I always wanted to be a writer or a reporter. So I got a degree, and here I am.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Betty said. “You can’t get an honest-looking face like that without some adversity. Oh, I have to make a stop.”
Cara looked around. “Where?” Surrounded by pine forests with the few houses and log cabins sporadically hidden off the two-land road, they were in the middle of nowhere.
Betty laughed and turned onto an old paved road. There was a sign that read Kabetogama Medical Center, Dr. Henry Fields. Betty followed the road slowly. At the end, Cara saw a very nice log cabin that looked comparatively new. There were a few cars parked on the side, so Betty parked near them. This was where Morgan Gavin was convalescing for the past two weeks?
“I have to pick up Morgan’s prescription. I’ll be right back.”
Betty easily got out of the tank, which annoyed Cara.
“Oh, what lost place in hell is this?” she whispered. She stuck her head out the window, and again the fragrance of pine overwhelmed her.
As she waited, taking in the woods, Betty came out, holding the door for a woman and a man whose ankle was in a cast. Cara hoped he could handle the crutches he struggled with.
“Maybe he got run over by a stray moose,” Cara said absently.
“Now, Susan, you call me or Morgan if you need anything. Bud, you stay off that ankle. Morgan can help you if you need it.” She kissed both of them. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Cara, this is Susan and Bud Warren, they’re neighbors. This is Cara Pembroke. You know, the reporter.”
Susan walked over to the car, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you. So, you’re doing a story on Morgan, eh? Good luck.”
“What do you mean?”
Susan whirled around. “Bud, get your butt in the truck.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Cara called after her.
“They’re a nice young couple. Moved here from Eau Claire, Wisconsin. No kids yet. They’re trying to make it. Bud is a carpenter. Susan’s parents own a resort on the lake. But they’re retiring, so it’s time for the younger generation.”
Cara listened to her rambling as she continued driving. Betty went on about Susan and Bud for so long, Cara felt as though she’d have to send them a Christmas card.
As Betty drove north, she smiled slightly, taking in the beautiful landscape. Pine trees of every shape and kind lined the road that changed from asphalt to dirt. The dense woods seemed to go on forever. There was no sign of life, and it was breathtaking, but it was...
“So far from anything,” Cara said.
Betty laughed. “Yes, we are. Not much happens on the lake. Plenty of resorts for fishing and canoeing on the boundary waters. You’re getting the best of autumn, but we’ve been having a warm spell the last week or so. I hope you’ll be here long enough to take in the colors. They’ve already started changing. It’s truly spectacular.”
“Can I ask why you agreed for me to write a story?”
Betty sighed, then smiled. To Cara, it was serene and content.
“I just think there is so much, pardon my French, crap in the world. And I think you might write something good, what people really are. And I think Morgan is a good subject. But then I’m the mom.”
Cara watched the scenery. “Is that a lake?”
“Yes, ma’am. Lake Kabetogama. One of the biggest lakes in the boundary waters. I hope you’ll have a wonderful time here. It’s truly a beautiful place. Morgan’s way off the road, so if anyone gets lost, there’s the landmark for Morgan’s property.”
Cara saw the huge white boulder that stood out against the deep forest of green. Betty turned left and found the road even more narrow with deep ruts. She drove for nearly two miles; jostled around, Cara no longer wondered why Betty chose her type of vehicle. They followed the road, going deeper and deeper into the woods until the log house burst into view.
Nestled in a small clearing, the house looked different from the doctor’s. Though it was neatly built, it looked nothing like the log homes of the day and more as if it were built decades ago and upgraded. Behind it, she got a glimpse of a garage or shed. At least she saw one tall electric pole, with a few lines that stretched out of sight. She wondered where it could possibly end up in this wilderness. She prayed for Wi-Fi for her computer.
Cara disembarked the tank, thankful it was not a big drop to terra firma. She cautiously followed Betty to the front porch. She climbed the three steps, wincing every time she heard the boards creak. After giving her surroundings a curious look, she was amazed to see a large lake partially hidden by the dense brush. She found the deep blue color beautiful and inviting; it looked like a postcard. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with pristine air.
Betty knocked. “Morgan? We’re here.” She then opened the door. “You’d better be on that couch.”
“I will go back to Doc Fields if you don’t stop nagging…”
Cara heard a woman’s voice call out. She jumped when the door opened.
Blue eyes. That was the first thing Cara noticed. Crystal blue, like the lake she just got a glimpse of. The woman’s frown turned to a smile; now Cara noticed white teeth and the tanned face. She had short curly dark hair, just touching the collar of her heavy flannel shirt.
“Morgan, this is Cara Pembroke from the Chicago Sentinel. You may call her Cara. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Betty looked from Morgan to Cara. Morgan blinked a couple of times.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, laughing. “How do you do?”
“I’m…I’m fine,” Cara said, shaking her warm hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare. It’s just I…we thought you were a man.”
Betty laughed, so did Morgan, who blushed more than laughed. “You did? Why?”
“I don’t know. My boss told me Mr. Gavin, so…”
Morgan glared at Betty. “Mom, didn’t you tell the nice woman I was also a woman?”
Betty’s big blue eyes widened. She laughed nervously. “Well, I don’t remember now. I suppose not. Who would think?”
“Certainly not you. I’m sorry for the confusion,” Morgan said to Cara. “Disappointed?”
“What?” Cara stared into her eyes. “Oh, no. No.” Cara was aware of Betty watching her. “It’s just a surprise.”
“Let’s blame my mother. It’s a favorite pastime.”
Betty laughed. “I tell you I can’t remember. It never occurred to me. But can we get off the porch?”
Cara followed Betty, smiling at Morgan as she passed by.
“I’m sorry for the confusion,” Morgan said.
“Don’t be. We assumed you were a man. Your name…I meant no offense.”
“None taken. It’s my mother’s maiden name.”
“It was your father’s idea. He wanted a son. Sit down, Morgan. I’ll get something to drink. How about some lemonade?”
Cara raised her hand. “Please don’t go to any trouble.”
“Oh, no. It’s Morgan’s favorite. Always in the fridge. Morgan, offer the poor girl a chair.”
Cara laughed when Betty walked into the kitchen.
“So now you see, Miss Pembroke, I had no idea she was doing this. I hope this hasn’t caused any problems.”
“Not at all. My boss thinks it’s a great idea.”
Morgan smiled slightly. “And you?”
“To be honest, I was about to take a vacation.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. Please, have a seat.”
“Don’t be sorry. I agree with my boss. I like the idea of having a story about something good instead of the usual government corruption.” Cara sat on the comfortable couch, looking around the living room. She was amazed at the difference. From the outside, it looked like an old log home. However, the inside was spacious and well-decorated. The stone fireplace took up most of the far wall and was not lit at the moment, but it appeared to be used often.
Cara turned when Betty returned, carrying a pitcher and three glasses. Cara noticed for the first time what an attractive woman she was. She was shorter than Morgan, with her snow-white long hair styled up and off her neck. She wore the same type of flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. Cara noticed her smile. It lit up her entire face.
“Morgan, stay put,” Betty ordered. She put the pitcher and glasses on the table.
“Miss Gavin, if you’re not well enough for this. Perhaps we should have waited…”
Morgan waved them both off. “I’m fine, Miss Pembroke. My mother is a nag.”
“I am not. And no more of this miss nonsense. It’s Betty, Morgan, and Cara. All friends.”
Morgan rolled her eyes at Cara, who smiled, drinking her lemonade.
“We shouldn’t be interrupting Cara’s life like this. It
wasn’t—”
“We talked about this. This is good for you. You haven’t been off this lake in years. What you did was a wonderful thing, let them thank you. Even if you can’t fly your plane there.”
Cara blinked in amazement. A pilot? She gave Morgan a wary look but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt the family squabble.
“You’re not exactly a world traveler,” Morgan grumbled.
“Don’t sass.”
“Don’t meddle.”
Betty’s jaw dropped. “Oh! I do not.”
Morgan laughed, then held her side. “Oh, yes, you do. Who called the Sentinel?”
“I did, but—”
“And who agreed to have a reporter come up here without telling me?”
“I did, but—”
Morgan held up her hand. “But, but. You sound like a motorboat.”
“That’s not funny,” Betty said, laughing. “That’s the thanks I get.”
“Don’t start.”
“You sound like your father. Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom. If that’s all right.”
Cara saw Morgan’s embarrassment but concentrated on her glass. When Morgan disappeared down the hall, Betty sat far too close to Cara.
“Quickly.”
“Quickly, what?” Cara asked, leaning away.
“You have an honest face, Cara. Are you married?”
The question took Cara completely off guard. “N-no, I’m not.”
“Engaged?”
“N-no.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Well, no.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Y-yes, actually,” Cara answered obediently and noticed Betty’s frown. “I’m sorry. I just blurted that out. You were too direct, and that was not a question I expected.”
Betty waved her off. “Excellent. Don’t apologize. So is Morgan. We’re pretty civilized up here in the woods.” Betty narrowed her eyes. “Serious?”
Cara felt as if she fell down the rabbit hole. “About what?”
“Your girlfriend, of course.”
“Oh. I—” Cara, for some reason, didn’t know what to say. And that was a revelation to her.
“You’re taking too long, dear.” Betty raised one eyebrow.
Cara laughed nervously. “This is not going any way I thought it would. You should be the reporter. Morgan must be right. You do meddle.”
“All fodder for your story.” Betty laughed along with her. “And if Chuck were here, he’d get mad at me for asking.”
&
nbsp; “Who’s Chuck?”
“My husband.”
“Morgan’s father?”
Betty cocked her head. “Well, I should hope so. It says so on her birth certificate.”
Cara felt the heat rise from her toes. “I—”
When they heard Morgan coming down the hall, Betty put her fingers to her lips.
“Shh. You and I haven’t talked about anything…”
“Who’d believe it?” Cara rubbed her temple. She jumped when the phone rang.
“Who could that be?” Betty ran to the phone. “Fred? Hello. What’s wrong?”
Cara watched Betty, who frowned as she listened. Morgan was immediately at her side.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked.
Betty held up her hand, still listening. “Okay. Here’s Morgan.”
Betty handed the phone to her. “He needs you.”
“Hi, Fred. What’s the problem?”
Cara sat in silence, just watching. What in the fresh hell was going on? From the looks on their faces, something was wrong. Maybe a moose on the loose?
“Okay, Fred, calm down. I’ll be right there. Wait for me at the pier. Did you call Jean? She’s on her way here? Good. I’ll bring her.” Morgan turned to Cara. “I’m sorry. I have something to take care of. I know you want to get started, but this is an emergency.”
“What’s happening?”
Betty laughed. “It’s Daisy. She’s about to calve.”
“Huh?”
“I like you.” Betty continued to laugh. “Daisy is Fred’s cow. And she’s having a baby cow. You know, a calf?”
Cara raised an eyebrow. “I know what a calf is.”
“That’s right. It was a cow that kicked the lantern over in your city.” Betty grinned. “This is fun. Sorry, we just don’t
get—”
“Many visitors. I understand.” Cara was beginning to think this whole thing was a huge mistake.
Morgan picked up her jacket. “Jean is on her way. I’ve got to get the plane ready.”
“Plane?” Cara looked from one crazy woman to the other. “Plane?”
Betty extended her arms and rocked back and forth. “You know, vroom, vroom…”
Morgan chuckled as she struggled into her worn jacket. “Stop it, Mom. Look, Miss Pembroke, er, Cara. I’m very sorry, but Fred’s calf is more important than us right now.”