Huckleberry Lake Read online

  Erin bypassed a greeting and asked, “What’s so objectionable about me that he isn’t even interested in being my friend?”

  “Have you been crying? Oh, God, you have. You sound all stuffed up. That isn’t like you.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I’m so tough and masculine, I never cry like a normal woman.”

  Julie sighed. “Erin, you need to listen to me. Are you listening? There’s nothing objectionable about you. And you aren’t tough and masculine. You looked absolutely beautiful today.”

  “He ignored me all afternoon. Then my car broke down on the way home. Right in the middle of the road, of course. He barely managed to stop without hitting me. And he did not look happy when he realized it was my car.” Erin felt that pressure in her chest again, and this time the tears were so close to the surface that they erupted in a fresh flood. “If he isn’t attracted to me, fine. But why can’t he at least be friendly? What is it about me that turns men off?”

  “Okay, okay. You’re talking about Wyatt, right?”

  Erin blinked and wiped under one eye. “Of course I’m talking about Wyatt. Who else?”

  Julie sighed. “All right. I’m coming over with chocolate and wine, a surefire cure for whatever ails you, even PMS.”

  “Chocolate and wine?” Erin laughed through her tears. “It is Sunday afternoon. I’m off duty. A girls night sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Awesome. While you’re waiting for me to get there, run a hot bath, strip off your clothes, and sink down in the water until it’s up to your chin. It’ll relax you and make you feel a little better. I promise.”

  Erin ended the call and went to her bedroom. After adjusting the water temperature on the garden tub, she rummaged in her pajama drawer for something besides an oversize T-shirt and sweatpants. When she found nothing, not even a top and bottom that matched, she almost started to cry again. Most women had at least a few lingerie items. The fact that she didn’t pretty much said it all. She wasn’t sexy. She did love lacy underthings, but that was mainly because nobody ever saw them.

  She decided on a green-and-yellow University of Oregon T-shirt and a pair of athletic pants. Then, as Julie had suggested, she shucked off her clothes, caught her hair up in a band at the top of her head, and slipped into the water. As liquid heat surrounded her body, she sighed and decided Julie was right. She already felt better. She closed her eyes, forced her muscles to relax, and just breathed deeply for a minute before she turned the faucet off. Then she gave herself a pep talk.

  “Why do you care if Wyatt detests you?” she asked herself. “Like he’s the be-all and end-all of your existence or something? Don’t be juvenile. You don’t need a man in your life. It was probably a woman like you who invented vibrators.”

  She was still talking herself down when she heard the front door open. Julie yelled, “Hi, honey! I’m home!”

  Erin called back, “I’m still in the tub! Pour us each a glass of wine. I’ll be right out.”

  After giving herself a quick wash, Erin rinsed and vacated the tub. She toweled dry, slipped on her pathetic excuse for pajamas, and walked barefoot through the house. Just outside the kitchen archway, Julie had dumped her purse and an overnight case on the floor. She now stood at the counter, unloading her purchases from paper shopping bags.

  “I’m staying the night,” she said, flipping back her long, dark hair with a jerk of her head. “If I’m going to get hammered, which I definitely plan on doing, I shouldn’t drive home. So I brought a change of clothes so I can go straight from here to my shop in the morning.” Then her gaze sharpened on Erin’s face. “Oh, boy. You aren’t a pretty crier. Your face is so red and puffy, you look like you’re having an allergic reaction.”

  “I don’t cry very often. Doing it pretty must come only with practice.”

  Julie drew out a bottle of wine and unearthed Erin’s corkscrew from the flatware drawer. “Just hang on, sweetie. A glass of vino and all the chocolate you can eat will make you feel better. I also got rocky road ice cream and takeout from Chopstick Suey. Your favorites: sesame chicken, orange chicken, spring rolls, and fried rice. Not a vegetable in sight. Well, little vegetable bits in the spring rolls, maybe, but otherwise dinner will be a heart attack waiting to happen. Just the way you like it when you blow your diet.”

  With a hollow plunk, she popped the cork out of the wine bottle, grabbed two goblets from a shelf above her head, and poured their wine without ceremony. After handing Erin a glass, she said, “Bottoms up. I’ve never met a bottle of wine yet that can’t cure all my problems, at least temporarily.”

  Erin clinked her glass against Julie’s. “To good friends who come running with chocolate and wine.” Forcing a smile, she lifted her goblet. “Here’s to you, and here’s to me. Best of friends we’ll always be.”

  “I’ve heard that toast. Don’t say the rest, or I’ll take my goodies and go home.”

  With a laugh, Erin helped put place settings on the table. Normally, she didn’t bother, but Julie was a stickler for proper food presentation. They sat across from each other and began opening takeout cartons. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the bay window to splash gold over the tabletop.

  “Yum.” Erin knew her voice sounded flat, but she couldn’t help it. “Give me a few minutes. If I talk about it now, I’ll cry in my orange chicken.”

  Julie took a big swallow of wine. “Do not cry just yet. I want to have my mouth full of melting milk chocolate before you start. I can handle almost anything then.”

  That drew a genuine laugh from Erin. “Before I cry, I want a full tummy. I was too upset at the reception to eat. I didn’t even try my potato salad, and it’s my favorite recipe.”

  “I tried it.” Julie gave her a thumbs-up. “Phenomenal.”

  “I left it in the trunk of my car,” Erin said.

  “Oh, no! It’ll get warm and ruin!” Julie shot up from the chair. “I’ll go get it.”

  “You can’t. My car is at the Timing Light. The fuel pump cocked up its toes after I left the ranch. Then, thanks to Wyatt, the whole front end got smashed, so now it’ll need body work, too. Buck offers payment plans, thank God.”

  Julie slowly resumed her seat. “Smashed? How did that happen?”

  Erin held up a hand. “I’ll tell you about it as soon as I can blubber on a full stomach.”

  When they finished eating, they adjourned to the living room and sat in two recliners turned slightly toward each other with an end table between them. Julie had brought the wine, Erin the goblets, and they were all set for a hen session.

  “Now that it’s time to talk about it, I don’t know where to begin,” Erin said. “It’s been an awful day from start to finish.” She recounted to Julie how carefully she had dressed for the wedding. “I spent a whole hour on my makeup and hair alone. I wanted to knock his socks off. You know? But instead, he took one look at me and got as far away from me as he could.”

  “Oh, sweetie. It may have seemed that way to you, but Wyatt isn’t normally rude. Maybe he was just—I don’t know—preoccupied.”

  “He was preoccupied, all right. Thinking of ways to get away from me. Most of the time, I can just shrug it off. He’s been avoiding me for a while. But today . . . I don’t know. With all that happily-ever-after talk. Seeing the absolute joy on Uncle Slade’s and Vickie’s faces. Thinking about true love and wishing it could happen for me. Watching my cousin Brody, who didn’t even know Uncle Slade was his father a few months ago, standing beside his dad as his best man. It was all so perfect and romantic.”

  “It really was,” Julie agreed. “And watching Brody and Slade together. Wow. They are so much alike, not only in looks, but in character and temperament as well. It’s sad to think of all the wasted years when they should have been father and son, but that only made today all the more meaningful and wondrous. It was about as perfect as a wedding can be.”
Julie’s expression grew thoughtful as she swirled her wine and stared into its burgundy depths. “Watching all that made me feel sad, too. Attending weddings can do that to single women.” She took a sip of her drink and swallowed. “Did you know that single people who attend weddings tend to go off half-cocked and get married just to feel better?”

  “Really?” Erin hadn’t been aware of that fact. “I can see it happening, though. If some guy proposed to me right now, I might say yes.”

  “Me, too!” Julie exclaimed. “I’ve never loved someone the way Vickie clearly loves Slade, and I’d really like to experience that before I’m old and gray.”

  “What about Derek? You said you loved him.”

  “I thought so,” Julie mused aloud. “But as time passes to separate me from the pain of his betrayal, I realize that I was more in love with the whole idea of marriage and raising a family.” She shrugged. “Vickie and Slade have found the real thing.”

  “I felt awful for envying them,” Erin confessed. “If any two people deserve to be together and happy for the rest of their lives, it’s Slade and Vickie. How selfish of me to feel sad for myself instead of being happy for them.”

  Julie shook her head. “Stop! It wasn’t selfish of you, Erin. Today put me in a romantic frame of mind, too. How could it not? Who doesn’t wish for happily ever after?”

  “It just made me realize how empty my own life is, and I felt so alone,” Erin confessed. “And hopeless. I wish I could meet someone wonderful, and the only guy I really, really like won’t give me the time of day.”

  Julie reached for a chocolate kiss and popped it into her mouth. “It’s my opinion that your job as a deputy intimidates men. Most of the time when you meet guys, you’re in uniform with a loaded gun, a Taser, and handcuffs on your belt. Definitely not a sexy look. Well, maybe if a guy is into kinky stuff.”

  “My job again,” Erin said with a huff. “I wish I’d never listened to my father. I should have chased my own dream to become a speech therapist. But if I start over fresh in that field, I’ll have to go back to school. I’ll be paying off student loans until I’m old enough to draw Social Security benefits.”

  “Oh, you won’t be that old.”

  “I’ll be over forty,” Erin interjected. “And the thought is daunting. How will I ever afford to buy a small house and get a new car if I spend half my life either in the wrong profession or paying for college tuition? And what about having babies? My thirty-fifth birthday is three years away. I can’t seem to get a guy to give me a second look.”

  “Namely Wyatt Fitzgerald?” Julie twisted onto her knees in the recliner and poured each of them more wine. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Nothing about him adds up for me. He’s young, handsome, and physically fit. Yet as far as I know, he never dates. In my opinion there’s only one explanation for that, Erin. Women don’t do it for him.” She held up a staying hand. “Don’t say that I think every man I meet may be gay because of my ex. That isn’t true. Take Blackie, for instance. He’s attractive and doesn’t seem to keep company with women, but I don’t think he’s gay.”

  Erin squinted at her friend to read her expression. Then she gasped. “Oh, my God, you’re crushing on Fred Black! What are you thinking? Blackie’s fifty if he’s a day.”

  Julie’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s just—well, he comes into the Morning Grind almost daily for pastry and coffee. He sits at one of the inside tables, and we chat. He’s a really nice guy. And so what if I have a crush on him? The age difference is irrelevant. I’m no longer all soft in the head about having babies. I’m more interested in finding a mature and stable man whose company I enjoy. Blackie is mature and thoughtful and interesting.”

  Erin held her tongue and sipped her wine, because until this moment, she had never heard Julie sing any man’s praises. Something was up, and even though Erin was tipsy, she realized that teasing Julie wasn’t appropriate. She finally said, “I really like Blackie. Practically everyone does. I’ve never heard anyone say a bad word about him. If you’re into him, I can’t think of a single reason you shouldn’t act on it.”

  Julie got back into a comfortable reclining position. “I’m nervous about it.” She waved her hand as if to clear the air. “And I didn’t come over here to talk about my issues. We need to stay focused on yours. The way I see it, Erin, you’ve come a long way since you moved to Mystic Creek. You’ve broken so many bad habits that were drilled into you by your dad. I truly believe it’s the deputy uniform that’s preventing the single guys in town from asking you out.”

  “Okay, I have to confess. I’ve looked into returning to college, and I found out that Crystal Falls University offers a degree in speech pathology.”

  “Oh, Erin, that’s fabulous!”

  Erin shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I can stay with Uncle Slade and Aunt Vickie while I do my coursework. Brody and Marissa’s new home on the ranch is almost turnkey now, and they’ll be moving into it soon, leaving Uncle Slade and Vickie with plenty of spare rooms in the main house. Only there would be so many hoops for me to jump through. I already have my bachelor’s degree, but I’ll need my master’s as well in communication disorders and sciences, and then I’ll probably have to do an internship and other stuff to get my license to practice. And once I do, I may have to travel in order to work unless I luck out and find a position in a clinic, which most likely wouldn’t be in Mystic Creek. And I’ve come to love it here. I really don’t know how I feel about living somewhere else. Maybe, if I had a partner I adored, and he needed to live elsewhere. But to take off and try to put down roots in a strange place all by myself, and leave everyone here that I love? It all just seems overwhelming.”

  “I don’t like the thought of you leaving here, either,” Julie admitted. “But I also want you to be happy, and you aren’t in your present profession.”

  Erin released a weary sigh. “I know, and thanks for understanding how I feel. A whole lot of people will think I’m nuts for wanting to leave the job I have now. I just feel—I don’t know how to explain it, Julie—trapped, I guess. So I know I need to make a change.”

  Julie got tears in her eyes. “It’s hard for me to think of you leaving. No more girls nights. No more having you walk into my shop several times a day to get coffee you never have time to drink.”

  Erin reached over to touch her friend’s hand. “No matter what I decide to do, nothing is going to happen quickly. I’ll get my parents paid back over the coming winter. Then, and only then, will I feel free to pursue an education in another field. Then I’ll be doing coursework for at least two years at the university in Crystal Falls and living in Mystic Creek during that time. I’ll be so tight on money that I’ll be visiting the Morning Grind every day to eat your stale pastry.”

  They both burst out laughing at the thought, because Erin was always watching her weight and rarely indulged in bakery items.

  Chapter Two

  The next afternoon, Erin drove out to her uncle’s ranch. As she parked near the main house in a county truck the sheriff had allowed her to borrow for two weeks, she searched for Wyatt, saw no sign of him, and was glad of it. From now on, she planned to avoid him just as he did her. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in her, and she needed to respect that. It still bothered her that he didn’t at least want to be friends. But, oh, well. When they bumped into each other, they’d both be polite. Nothing more was required.

  She rolled down the window for a breath of fresh air, delightfully laced with scents she’d come to associate with only the ranch. As was the case everywhere in Mystic Creek, the predominant scent was of ponderosa pines, but on her uncle’s land, the piney sharpness competed with the perfume of new-growth alfalfa and grass, manzanita, wildflowers, the mist that rose from the creek, and the slight but ever-present hint of livestock manure, which, oddly enough, wasn’t unpleasant.

  After exiting the truck, s
he paused to let the sunlight warm her face and shoulders. She likened the sensation to having melted butter drizzled over her skin. After a harsh winter, the arrival of spring, no matter how fickle the weather, felt absolutely divine. She panned her gaze over the yard, taking in Slade’s late-model pickup, so layered with mud that she could see only patches of red paint. Then she widened her focus on the outbuildings that composed the ranch proper and the fenced pastureland behind them that stretched in seemingly endless folds of green to the tree-studded foothills of the Cascades.

  Raised by a mother who detested every aspect of country living, Erin had been slow to appreciate the simple pleasures that came with it, but now she was finally starting to understand why her uncle and Vickie loved this place so much. Out here, time seemed to slow down. The sound of a mountain breeze whispering through the pine boughs soothed her. In the distance, she could hear cattle lowing. Occasionally the soft drone of their cries was interrupted by the whinnying of a horse. If she listened closely, she could hear men’s voices drifting on the air, not loud enough to disrupt the peacefulness, but only a reminder that this was an industrious place despite the slow, lazy beat of its pulse. It was like a sanctuary to Erin now, much like the inside of a church, where she felt compelled to breathe deeply, exhale fully, and let go of her problems. If she returned to school and was fortunate enough to call this home for a couple of years, she would have all the quiet she needed to study and pull good grades.

  The thought made her stomach muscles bunch with anxiety again. It felt all wrong to be here to ask for help when she already had a good education and a wonderful job. Slade and Vickie might think she was nuts for even considering a career change. And maybe she was. She only knew she wasn’t happy, and whether anyone else could understand that or not, it was her reality.

  Her gaze came to rest on the house, which loomed two stories high, its natural wood and log exterior weathered to umber. Evidence of Vickie’s presence was everywhere, from the spring flower beds that had appeared along the front edge of the veranda to the layer of fresh, forest-green paint on Adirondack chairs grouped to the right of the front door. Even the multi-paned windows glistened. Not that Uncle Slade had been a slacker when it came to maintaining his home. He’d always kept it clean, organized, and in good repair. But most men didn’t think about the little things that added touches of hominess. Now, with Vickie in charge, a posy of flowers in a canning jar adorned a small deck table, and colorful pillows and throws invited the weary to relax in the sitting area. Feminine touches. Erin wished she had a talent for them. The front porch of her rental cottage looked shabby by comparison.