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Authors: Rosemarie Naramore

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BOOK: Summer on the Mountain
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“Oh, Jarrod.  You’re my son, and I love you, but you definitely take after your father,” she moaned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Honey, you’re a good looking man, and as your mother, I love you to pieces, but sweetie, you are an arrogant…”

“Mom!”

She sighed heavily.  “Jarrod.  Go over there and apologize to Summer.  Now!”

“I won’t apologize for doing something that needed doing.  I can’t have her living over there and harboring romantic notions.  I have a job to do, and just can’t be bothered right now.”

“Oh, Jarrod.  It’s no wonder you’re single,” she said with a beleaguered sigh.

“What?”

“Honey, you’re not the sharpest hook in the tackle box, are you?”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” he said with a humorless laugh.  “Mom, I did the right thing.”

“No, dear.  You did not.  Summer isn’t there trying to trap you into a relationship.  She’s there, doing a favor for me.”  She relayed the details of the arrangement to him.    She mentioned Summer might be at the cabin for several weeks.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, honey,” she said in a voice reminiscent of the one she used when he was a child and had done something especially stupid.

He sighed heavily.  What had he just done?  Remembering the shocked expression on Summer’s face, he realized he probably had been mistaken thinking she was there to lure him into a relationship.  Why had he acted like such an idiot?

He rubbed his eyes and decided lack of sleep accounted for his bout of insanity.  He sincerely hoped the insanity was temporary.   He’d been up for several nights, having been on a stakeout with another ranger. 

Oh, good grief, he nearly moaned aloud.  Living next door to Summer for no telling how long meant the two would have occasion to run into one another.  His face reddened at the prospect of an encounter.  How would he ever look her in the eye?      

“Oh, shoot,” he muttered, and his mother could easily envision the look on her son’s face at that instant.  He realized he’d made an utter and complete fool of himself, and she fought the chuckle that threatened to escape her lips.  She’d managed to convey to him that she had no motive in sending Summer to the cabin other than to have her paint a landscape for Leonard.  And she hadn’t … at first.    

“Mom,” he said, drawing her out of her reverie.  “I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, dear, you are.”

 

Chapter Four

 

Summer rolled out of bed several days later, feeling a sense of well being that surprised her.  Her cold had been terrible initially, but fortunately, the crisp mountain air seemed to speed the healing process and she was clearly on the mend.  She was grateful, since there was so much she wanted to do today.  Not the least of which, she needed to begin scouting a possible subject for her painting.

After readying for her day and eating a light breakfast, she strolled down to the lake and out to the end of the dock.  She sipped a cup of hot coffee as she surveyed the scene before her.  The lake was smooth as glass, nary a ripple breaking the surface. 

Had she looked to her right, she would have spotted Jarrod standing lakeside.  He noticed her and sighed.  He considered approaching her to issue another apology, but decided against it.  Instead, he strode back to his cabin, and began readying for his day.

Summer sat down on the dock, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply of the mountain air.  It smelled light, fresh, and she decided that if it were candy, it would be the finest chocolate. 

A strange plopping sound below her drew her attention.  She glanced around her, and then got on her knees and leaned over the side of the dock.  She couldn’t see anything in the crystalline water that would account for the noise.  She heard the sound again and cocked her head, straining to determine the source.

She dropped onto her stomach, pressing one eye to a gap between two of the wooden slats that comprised the dock.  She grinned when she spotted a huge fish beneath her.  It was easily a foot and a half long.  Its whiskers were charming, jutting out of a wide face with a broad mouth that appeared to smile.  She wasn’t sure what kind of fish it was, but she watched it with delight and fascination.

Jarrod decided to detour back to the lake bank before he left for work.  He knew he owed his new neighbor another apology, and decided to get it over with.

When he spied her lying face down and still as a statue on the dock, he ran full out toward her.  Had she fallen?  Was she dead?

When Summer felt vibrations on the dock and then a warm hand on her back, she practically leapt out of her skin.  She jumped to her feet and found herself staring into the worried eyes of Gwendolyn’s horrible son.

“Are you all right?” he asked fearfully.

“I’m fine,” she said, watching him curiously.  “Although you just gave me the fright of my life.  Again.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.  “I thought you might have hurt yourself, or that you might be dead.”  He gave a shrug.  “What were you doing, by the way?”

She shot him an annoyed glance.  “I was looking at a fish.”

He dropped down and took a quick look.  “Catfish,” he said, rising to his feet in a swift movement.

She nodded.  “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”  He chuckled.  “It’s a bottom feeder.  Not a particularly interesting fish.” 

“That’s your opinion,” she said, as if his opinion didn’t matter one iota.

He chuckled, and she turned away.  “Sorry to have worried you.”  She started to walk away.

To her surprise, he grasped her arm.  “I, uh, wanted to apologize for the other day.”

She arched her brows.  “Oh?”

“I made some assumptions,” he began sheepishly, “and apparently, I was wrong.”

“Dead wrong,” she assured him with a disgusted snort.

He nodded, glanced away, and then back.  “My mom has a habit of…”

She simply nodded, effectively cutting him off, and began walking away before he could finish his sentence.  To her surprise, he hurried to her side, falling into step beside her.  She paused, turning to him and asking in a bored tone, “Was there something else?”

“Actually, yeah.  I’d mentioned to you that we’ve had problems with burglaries at several lakeside homes.  You’ll want to be especially cautious at night and assure you lock all the doors and windows.  The same holds true for daytime.  These burglars are awfully bold, and you’ll want to be especially diligent being as you’re a woman alone up here.”

She digested his words.  “Thanks for the warning.”  She strode off and he watched her retreating figure briefly, before jogging to catch up with her again.

She paused impatiently, watching him with barely concealed contempt.  “Was there something else?”

“Yeah,” he said, flashing a quick smile.  “You look like you’re feeling better.  Hot lemon works wonders,” he said.

“No, fresh mountain air works wonders,” she said, and then strode away from him again.

“You’re bound and determined to avoid talking to me, aren’t you?” he called out, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth.  “I guess I can’t blame you.”

Summer paused.  “I’d hate for you to misconstrue anything I might say or do as an attempt to lure you into my web,” she said snidely.

He chuckled.  “I deserve that.”  He watched her speculatively.  “Can we start fresh—pretend we’ve just met?”

She sighed, half-wishing she could tell the man to pack sand.  Unfortunately, he was her boss’s son, and she decided it might be best to humor him.  It didn’t mean she had to like him, or even give him the time of day thereafter, but, for now, she sighed resignedly and offered him her hand.  “I’m Summer Windham.”

He smiled and jogged forward to clasp her hand.  “Jarrod Lawton.  It’s good to meet you.”

She nodded tightly and then started for the cabin again.  He walked alongside her.  “So, what do you think of our mountain retreat?” he inquired with interest, surprising her with his persistence.

She paused, glancing off into the distance and tipping her face to a gentle breeze before turning back to him and meeting his gaze.  “It’s beautiful,” she said sincerely.  “More beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

He gave her a searching look, and then broke into a smile.  “I believe you mean that,” he said incredulously.  “You don’t seem like the outdoorsy type.”

“And what is the outdoorsy type?” she asked, failing to mask her annoyance.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, lifting his hands as if in surrender, “I didn’t mean anything by that.  You’re just, well…”

“What?”

“Forget I said anything.”

“No.  Tell me.  What type am I?”

He smiled awkwardly and flashed a glance at his watch.  “Wow!  I have to go.”  He strode off, calling over his shoulder, “I really should get to work.  I’m late.” 

“I’m sure you are,” she uttered testily, and then strode back to the cabin.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.  She locked it, remembering his words of warning about burglars.  She wasn’t worried about burglars, but her neighbor had certainly given her pause.  The man was handsome, powerfully built—the embodiment of a rugged outdoorsman—and she resolved to avoid him like the plague. 

Moments before, he had seemed friendly, engaging, and hopeful the two could perhaps be friends—or at least put the discomfort of their initial meetings behind them.  But like him, she wasn’t interested in any kind of entanglement with the opposite sex.  She was here to commune with nature—and to paint a picture for Leonard.  Nothing more, nothing less.

But first, she decided to take a walk in the forest.  She remembered spotting a tiny country store on her way up to the mountain, and had noticed a sign there marking a nearby trail head. 

 

***

             

Jarrod drove the Explorer toward Janson Ridge.  He found another forest ranger, Tyler Lane, already there, his binoculars poised on an area to his right.  He heard Jarrod approach and lowered the binoculars.

“See anything?” Jarrod asked.

“Not a thing,” the other man muttered.  “These guys are getting the best of me.  I’m telling you, Jarrod, they know this mountain.  They’d have to, the way they flit in and out like ghosts.”

He considered his friend’s words.  “You could be right.”

“Well, I’m outta here.  If you run into trouble, don’t be a hero.”

“See you later,” Jarrod said, training his own binoculars on the area of interest.  He remained focused for a time, but then panned out with the binoculars, looking for anyone or anything of interest.  When he spied a blond head bobbing along a trail a half-mile or so north of him, he immediately recognized Summer Windham.

She was dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and walking into an area where brown bears had been spotted recently.  He hoped the woman would be on her guard, since the bears could be temperamental and with little provocation. 

He couldn’t help wonder what had prompted her to set out on that trail, since it was particularly treacherous and best suited to experienced hikers.  He wondered how she’d even known about it, but then he realized she’s probably seen the marker if she’d been to the country store. 

He kept the binoculars trained on her head.  He couldn’t help but worry about her.  She hadn’t dressed for a lengthy hike, nor did she appear to carry much gear.  He searched her slender frame for a pack of some type, but saw nothing.  He groaned loudly.  The woman could easily become lost on this particular trail, which he knew eventually forked, with one leg heading upwards to dangerous, rocky terrain and another winding down and around a deep ravine with dangerous, sloping sides.

With a sigh, he decided to abandon his watch and head for the trail the woman was hiking.  He knew it like the back of his hand, and knew he could reach her via a logging road.  He drove quickly, doing a little four-wheeling as he maneuvered the deeply jutted road, and finally reached an overgrown hillside that dropped down and eventually merged with the trail she was currently hiking.

He left his SUV and carefully dropped down the steep hillside.  At the bottom, he began hiking across a field that led to the trail and then waited at a rock that served as a landmark for experienced hikers.  He knew she would round the bend soon, and he hoped he wouldn’t alarm her.

As he waited for her, he glanced around him.  An experienced tracker, he spotted several indications a bear had recently been in the area.  Snapped branches, a tuft of fur, and footprints in a nearby muddy puddle attested to the bear’s presence. 

When suddenly Summer rounded the bend, she spied him and came to an abrupt halt.  Jarrod realized he was responsible for the flash of fear in her eyes and he smiled reassuringly.  “I was on a stakeout and spotted you hiking…”

She swallowed over a lump in her throat.  It had been frightening to round the bend and find him standing there.  She eyed him curiously, her guard clearly up. 

When she didn’t speak, he continued.  “This is a trail best left to experienced hikers.  Aside from the fact that it’s a difficult trek, we’ve spotted several bears in the area.”

BOOK: Summer on the Mountain
12.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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