Happily Ever After (10 page)

She shot him a playful glare. Then she crouched, hunting for a flat stone.

“Forget it, Mona. I’m the champ.”

“Never. I have skipped more stones into this lake than you’ve even stumbled on.”

“Ha!” Joe squatted beside her. The rocks gleamed opal, ruby, slate, and amber. He found a perfectly round, smooth, platinum-colored
stone, made by God for skipping. Tossing it in his grip like a ball, he waited for her throw.

Mona sprang to her feet, gave him a predatory look, bent low, and flung the rock. Her count split the cries of the seagulls.
“. . . fourteen . . . fifteen!” She raised her arms in triumph. “Beat that!”

Joe smiled, enjoying the delicious competitive expression on Mona’s face. “Watch this,” he teased. He flung the rock with
such force, his wrist cracked. Cupping his hands over his eyes, he watched it splice the waves. “. . .ten, eleven, twelve
. . .” It was still moving strong, but a whaler chugging in the distance had sent a series of waves to shore. Joe spotted
a monster crest forming, preparing to gobble up his rock. “No, no!”

Mona picked up the count. “. . . thirteen . . . fourteen!It’s a goner, and Mona Reynolds nabs the championship!” She twirled
in victory.

Joe crossed his arms and fought the rising desire to take her into his embrace and dance to her melody. Joy lit her face and
her eyes shone, igniting a warm glow inside him. He threw up his hands. “Okay, I concede defeat. But only on one condition.”

Mona stopped and clamped her hands on her hips.“No conditions. I won fair and square.”

“My skipper would have gone an easy twenty had it not been for interference.”

“Them’s the breaks. Timing is part of rock-skipping skill. You have to know when to hold back and when to throw.”

“You have to give me a chance to even the score.”

“How?” Mona jutted her jaw, her eyes blazing.

“I’ll race you across the Devil’s Kettle.”

Mona gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope. I know a spot above the Kettle where you can cross, if you’re steady and have balance.”

The words hung in the air and seemed to hit her, just as they hit him. She was hopelessly out of balance, obsessed with her
dream. He drifted like a vagabond, dodging trouble from one town to the next, living a life that was anything but steady.
Her smile vanished, and the light in her eyes flickered.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Mona wrapped her arms around herself. “You’re right. I might be a little taken with my idea. But I have to be. God’s given
me this one chance, and I’ve got to give it my all. No one else is going to grab on and fight for my dream.” She turned away,
poised to head toward home. Joe caught her elbow. “Joe, listen, I could wake up tomorrow and you’d be gone. I know that—”

“I’m not going to leave, Mona. Not until you don’t need me anymore.” His own words sucker punched him, erupting from a place
inside he’d yet to harness. But what choice had she given him? He felt powerless before her haunted green eyes. They reached
out to a place inside he didn’t even know existed and extracted promises he doubted he could fulfill. He spoke it again, as
if to convince himself. “I’m not going to leave.”

She spun, and the expression on her face told him exactly what he needed to see: hope, determination, and something else indiscernible.
Then her eyes pinned his with a look so desperate, it tore a swath through his heart. Her voice was soft. “Don’t make me depend
on you, Joe. I can’t take my heart breaking again.” She turned and sprinted from the beach.

Joe watched her go and hoped that the promise he’d made didn’t keep him in town long enough to let Wayne Michaels, or anyone
else hanging around the fringes of his life, destroy this beautiful house of cards he was creating.

Joe opened his arms, and Rip tackled him in an exuberant bounce. Knocking Joe to the ground, the Lab smothered him with the
kisses of a long-lost love. Joe laughed, pushed Rip away, and rolled to his feet. Gabe grinned like he was next in line. Joe
reached out and hugged him.“Thanks again for taking care of Rip, Gabe.”

Ruby stood, cross-armed and stoic, behind her charge. “Next time, don’t run off so fast. You might find that your problems
are better solved by sticking around.”

Joe ignored the dig. Obviously she had yet to figure out that it was his so-called running that kept them out of trouble’s
grasp. He forced a smile. “Thanks for looking after things.”

She fielded his loaded gratitude, responding with a curt nod. He hadn’t made any friends with his stormy retreat yesterday,
but his morning spent hoeing a section of the strawberry patch, along with a face-to-face chat with Gabe, had softened Ruby’s
attitude. Although he avoided the father subject, he managed to apologize with sincerity to Gabe, who forgave him with a smile
and an embrace. The unconditional response made Joe burn with shame.

Ruby’s voice warmed. “Come back soon, Joe.”

Rip emitted a slow whine as they pulled out of the Garden. Joe rubbed his hand over the dog. “Finally found a place to call
home, Rip?”

The affirming bark opened a festering wound in Joe’s soul.

Mona was watering her flowers when Joe pulled in. She grimaced and waved her hand in front of her nose, as if the fumes from
his truck soured the air.

He grinned and sauntered up the walk, swinging his keys. “Let’s go!” he called.

Mona frowned at him. “Go where?”

“Devil’s Kettle, remember?”

“I thought you were kidding. No, I have far too much work to do. I have to paint the windowsills, and you still have to patch
the hole in my ceiling.” She turned away and dragged the hose to her poplar sapling.

Joe crossed the yard in two giant steps, wrapped one arm around her, and grabbed the hose with the other.“Nothing doing. You’re
a chicken.”

She fit so well inside his casual embrace, the sudden urge to bury his face in her hair and smell her smooth skin made his
pulse notch up. He took a calming breath and settled for the spark that lit in her green eyes.

“I’m not a chicken. I have work to do.”

“Fine,” he said mischievously, “concede me the winner.”

He could have happily hid himself inside her furious gape for a year.

He bowed low. “As you wish, milady.”

Mona rolled her eyes, but he saw a smile push at the corners of her mouth. She darted toward the house. “Let me change clothes.”

He thought her faded jeans and University of Minnesota sweatshirt looked just fine.

She disappeared inside the house, and he turned to the sapling. She’d done a decent job, by herself of course, of planting
the tree. Someday it would shade the yard, and she could put a garden table and chairs under its arms. Or he could build her
a pair of Adirondack chairs and a picnic table.

Reality hit him like a cold gust. He wouldn’t be here long enough to start sharing in her future. But maybe, if Gabe still
lived at the Garden, he’d be back for a visit. That thought made him hum.

A car door slammed, slicing through his melody. Joe whirled, and the song died. Brian, dressed like a biker in a black leather
jacket and matching jeans, swaggered toward the house, a sappy grin on his face. Joe wondered if he was wearing a black T-shirt
to complete the ensemble. Brian saw Joe, and his smile dimmed. “Hey, Joe.”

“Brian,” Joe countered.

Brian entered the gate and ambled up to the sapling.“Nice maple.”

“It’s a poplar.”

“Right.” Brian stuck his hands in his pockets. “Have you seen Mona?”

Joe bristled. “She’s going up to Devil’s Kettle with me.”

“Really? I haven’t been up there for a long time.

Maybe I’ll tag along.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed. He was about to clip out a reason why Brian was not suitably dressed for a hike through the wilderness
when he heard screams from the backyard. An earsplitting crash, then Rip’s low barks merged with Liza’s angry shouts.

“Sounds like you have trouble,” Brian commented dryly.

Joe restrained the urge to turn the hose on him.

“You’d better see what’s up.”

Reluctantly, Joe dropped the hose at the roots. “Can you turn off the water for me?”

Brian nodded, humor glinting in his eyes. Joe gritted his teeth and sprinted toward the backyard.

Liza had Rip by the scruff of his neck. Her eyes blazed and he thought he saw actual fumes spiraling from her ears. “This
mutt of yours just destroyed a day’s work. Keep him out of my shed!”

Joe cringed and reached for Rip. “Sorry, Liza. I’ll tie him up.”

Joe nodded and dragged Rip to the porch door. He 102 threatened the dog with a low growl, then went in search of rope. Finding
one in the pile of rubble and garbage next to the back steps, he tied it to the dog’s collar, knotted it tightly, and attached
the other end to the railing. “I’ll get you a leash in the morning,” he soothed. “Until then, you stay put.” Rip sunk into
the dirt and hid his muzzle under his front paw. Joe scratched him behind the ears.

“Now, c’mere and help me clean this up!” Liza ordered.

Joe trudged to the shed. Liza had swept the cement floor, where hardened shards of earthenware curled like ribbons of chocolate.
She handed him a garbage bag.“Hold,” she commanded, gathering the broken pieces in a dustpan and dumping them into the bag.

“How’d it happen?”

She shot him a withering look. “I had the bowls laid out on those sawhorses, and Rip charged in and upset the shelf.”

Joe glanced at the sawhorses. “I’ll make you a real shelf, Liza.”

She stopped and considered him a moment, the dustpan on her hip. “Okay, buddy, you make me a shelf and I’ll forgive your mutt.”

Joe grinned. “Consider it done.”

“And,” she added, “I’ll tell you what you have to do to make Mona’s heart melt.”

Joe nearly dropped the bag. “What did you say?”

Liza laughed at him, delight illuminating her face.

“You two are a matched pair!”

Joe tied the corners of the bag and threw it over his shoulder, beating a hasty retreat.

Mona stood at the window, watching Joe lug trash from Liza’s shed, still reeling from his quick embrace, if one could call
it that. Something about his presence drew her in, threw her heart into overdrive, and turned her knees to jelly.

She sat on the bed and hung her head in her hands. She couldn’t afford to take her eyes off her goal. She had a deadline and
a mountain of work to accomplish. She didn’t have time to dance about to the tune of love—especially with a man whose days
with her were numbered.

Shaking his image away, she dug into her closet and unearthed a pair of clean Levi’s, a white T-shirt, and a windbreaker.
Under the bed, she located her hiking shoes next to a pair of grimy socks. She’d have to descend to the cellar and do laundry
when she came home. She prayed the washer the previous owner left worked. If not, maybe Joe could fix it.

She’d been up the Kettle trail on occasion in years past with her father. Once, they’d sent a log over the falls, watching
it race downstream and finally disappear into the Kettle, a swirling teapot-shaped mass of rock and granite. The log never
resurfaced; local legend suggested the Kettle swallowed everything that went in. The memory made her shiver. Perhaps this
wasn’t the wisest idea.

Glancing out the window at the marshmallow clouds billowed against an azure sky, she decided her fears were nonsense. A hike
would be good for her soul. The breeze singing through the pines always had a peaceful effect on her, and she definitely needed
some distance from her obsessive focus on the house. She had enough time, after all, to finish the repairs. A day in the woods,
reminding herself of God’s creativity, sounded like a pleasant balm to her overworked, worried heart.

But spend the day alone with Joe? The thought caused nervous ripples to stream up her spine. His smile was charming, his laughter
intoxicating. Too much time with him might get addictive and distractive.

She tied her shoes, then flew down the stairs. “Liza!”she called from the landing. Trotting through the kitchen, she popped
out the back door. Rip almost took her head off with an exuberant bounce toward her. Mona recoiled, then stepped out and crouched
beside the dog. “What happened to you?” She examined the rope around his neck.

“He’s in the doghouse.” Joe clunked the top on the metal garbage can and strolled over. “He destroyed a bunch of Liza’s pots.”

“That’s right! And now I have to spend a whole day remaking them.” Liza stomped toward the house, dark eyes on Rip. “But I
got Joe to agree to make me a drying rack, so it’s not a complete loss.” She waggled her eyebrows at Joe, and her eyes shone
with mischief.

Mona glanced at Joe. Was he blushing? A strange feeling squeezed her heart. Jealousy? She dismissed it with a shake of her
head and got to her feet. “Sorry, Liza. Not today. Joe and I are going hiking, and you’re coming along!” She smiled hopefully
at her friend, adding, “Please?”

Mona caught Joe’s expression. He didn’t seem happy.“Liza needs a break too, Joe.”

He gripped the back of his neck. “Sure she does.” He forced a smile. “Come with us, Liza,” he said in a voice that lacked
enthusiasm.

Liza surveyed the pair, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so—”

“Let’s go!” A smooth tenor interrupted her answer.Mona turned and saw Brian Whitney strutting toward them, his perfect white
grin a vivid contrast to his black leather getup.

Mona didn’t miss the delight coloring Liza’s face, and an idea birthed. “Are you coming with us, Brian?” she asked sweetly.

Brian tucked his hands in his coat pockets. “I’d like to. I haven’t been up to see the Kettle for a long time and never with
such beautiful company.”

Mona rolled her eyes. Liza beamed at him.

Joe cleared his throat. “Does that ‘beautiful’ description include me?” His grin teased, but Mona detected annoyance lurking
in his eyes.

She turned to Brian. “You’re definitely invited. Let’s go.” She peeked at her friend. “Liza?”

Liza nodded, her grin betraying her emotions. “I’ll change.” She bounded past Mona into the house.

Mona put a hand on Rip’s head. His tail hit the side of the house in loud thumps. “Are we bringing the hoodlum along?”

Joe didn’t meet her eyes but crouched beside the dog.“I need all the friends I can get,” he murmured as he untied the rope.