Why had she insisted on taking Kermit? Lyssa eyeballed Kirk’s car across the parking lot of the lavish complex he called home. It was probably ten years newer than hers. Her fingers tightened on the familiar wheel. It was just a small something she could control, when she had no clue why he seemed so different than her memories of him. But until she figured out what had caused the sudden alteration, she didn’t want to be stranded in the backcountry without her own wheels.
Kirk jogged out of the complex in hiking shorts and a navy Lincoln Tigers T-shirt. He tossed a small daypack onto the backseat and slid into the passenger side, brandishing a bottle of mineral water.
Lyssa sighed. No good could come of this outing. So he was cute and interested in her by a flattering amount. But in the not-so-distant past, he’d been vehemently opposed to Christianity. There wasn’t any recent evidence to back that up since she’d met him at Communication Location last week, but still. She must’ve been nuts to accept his company. She shook her head and shifted Kermit into reverse, her hand skimming the hair above Kirk’s knee. Best not to think about that, either, though her fingers tingled.
She drove north on the parkway. What to talk about? She certainly couldn’t admit to how unsettled his presence made her, though he probably guessed. She’d just make him do the talking.
The silence lasted only seconds.
“Tell me about yourself, Lyssa. Have you been teaching long?”
This could be neutral ground. “Three years. A lot of it has been substitute teaching.”
“Takes a while to break in?”
“Seems so. I covered a maternity leave this past term, and that’s given me good experience. And confidence.” At least in some areas.
“Are you from Osage Beach, then?”
Lyssa clenched Kermit’s wheel. “No. My best friend grew up here, though. It seemed as good a place as any to get established, since she needed a roommate and I had nowhere else I’d rather be.” She’d certainly had enough of living near her father. “How about you?” She glanced over her shoulder and merged into the exit lane for Lake of the Ozarks State Park.
He stretched his legs as much as Kermit’s space would allow. “I grew up in St. Louis, but I’ve lived in Jefferson City for”—he paused then whistled—“more than ten years now.”
Not that she’d doubted his identity, but somewhere deep inside the part of her that hoped this guy was just Professor Kennedy’s doppelgänger—conveniently with the same name—died. “What do you do there?” As if she didn’t know.
“I’m a humanities professor at Lincoln U.” He tugged his T-shirt so she could see the tiger emblem.
This was where she should say Lincoln was her alma mater.
Lyssa stopped herself from physically shaking her head. “That sounds interesting. What’s the best part of your job?” Poking fun at Christians, maybe?
“I love helping shape young people’s perceptions of the world around them.”
Her mind screamed at her to challenge him, to tell him she’d sat in his class and hadn’t seen his attitude as a positive influence. How could this friendly, fascinating man be the same guy? Kirk didn’t add up. “And here I thought you wandered around the state, opening up electronics stores.”
He laughed, a nice, easy sound. “No, that’s a new hobby of mine. Blame it on my brother.”
“Why here?”
“My grandparents had a cottage along the lake. My brother and I used to spend summers with them, so we have a lot of good memories of the area.”
More money than she’d ever had, then. No surprise, considering his condo and his car. “You and your brother must be close.” She glanced over in time to see his jaw clench for a brief instant.
“He’s a couple years older. Yeah, we were close.”
Were?
“It’s been rough lately.” He paused. “His wife died six months ago.”
“That’s too bad. He’s lucky to have a brother like you.” Drat. She was too forward, by far.
Kirk shot her a sidelong glance. “It doesn’t always seem that way. But families stick together, right? I mean, that’s what they’re for.”
“You’d think so.” Lyssa pulled into the parking lot at the Trail of the Four Winds. Good timing. “Ready?”
Kirk grinned as he got out. “So ready.” He leaned against the car and stretched his hamstrings.
Lyssa turned away as she adjusted her daypack. The Kirk she’d met in Osage Beach did not jive with the college professor she’d known in Jefferson. This Kirk had muscular legs and looked great in shorts. She’d never daydreamed that about him back at Lincoln. Why did college feel like a lifetime ago? It seemed it had happened to different people.
She cast him a sidelong glance as he locked his fingers behind his head and stretched to his left.
Maybe it had happened to someone else. On both sides. But how would she ever know if she couldn’t get up the courage to ask?
Lyssa shuddered and began her own stretches. That question required an openness she wasn’t prepared for. She didn’t want that old Kirk back, no way, no how.
“So, show me how this geocaching thing works.”
His words returned Lyssa to the present. The new Kirk was here, interested in many of the same things she was, or so it seemed: the outdoors, hiking, geocaching. She pulled her GPS unit out of her pants’s cargo pocket. “I know where the cache is, but I think the coordinates are still in memory.” She logged into the handheld and waited for the list to refresh.
Kirk moved in behind her, peering at the unit. His T-shirt brushed her arm, and his breath warmed her cheek. The scent of his spicy cologne filled her senses.
Lyssa shifted slightly away. She couldn’t let him get to her. “These are the coordinates, and here’s where we are now. We follow the trail until we get close then use the hints to zero in.”
He leaned closer. “Basically, we’ve got a couple of miles to go up the trail first.”
She nodded.
“What kind of hints do you mean?” He took the GPS from her and examined it.
“In this case, it’s a poem. Just scroll down.”
Kirk read the verse out loud.
“Trails of the Four Winds—
North, East, South, and West.
Hike until the numbers match;
See where the view is best.
Limestone low and grasses blow;
Oaks have tumbled down.
Cedar roots bind the spot;
Flowers act as crown. “
He grimaced. “Does it have to be so cryptic?”
A wave of heat shot up Lyssa’s cheeks. “It’s a hunt, after all.” She turned away and adjusted the straps of her pack. “You don’t tell people ‘third rock from the left’.”
“But still. Hokey poetry? The rhythm is off.”
“It has to get the information in there, okay? Sorry it doesn’t meet with your expectations.”
“Whoa.” He put his hand on her arm and turned her to face him.
Didn’t mean she had to look in his eyes. “It sounds like somebody is a tad sensitive over this. Why would that be?”
Lyssa pulled back far enough that he dropped his hand. “Aw, Lyssa. You wrote it, didn’t you?”
She motioned toward the trailhead, not meeting his gaze. “You ready to hike?”
“Tell me I’m right.” Kirk fell into step beside her and elbowed her lightly.
Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Lyssa picked up the pace. Maybe he’d get the hint, sooner or later. Not that he ever had in class, but at least now he wasn’t being mean. Much.
It didn’t take long for him to catch on. “I was making fun of you. I’m sorry.”
Lyssa couldn’t stay angry when he sounded so contrite. “It’s okay.” She kept a wary eye on the clouds scuttling overhead as she hiked up the rocky trail. The weatherman had forecast late-evening showers, but they should get back in plenty of time. In the meanwhile, the cooler breeze cut the heavy aroma of wild roses and swept mosquitoes away, making the hike delightful. Or was that the presence of the man behind her on the narrow path? She glanced over her shoulder at him.
Kirk was practically on her heels. “So, do you have any siblings?”
That’s what she got for meeting his gaze for an instant. “Two younger brothers.”
His tone remained light. “That must’ve kept you on your toes. Or were you Daddy’s Princess and could do no wrong?”
As if. “I was more like Cinderella in the before category—all the cooking and cleaning, minus the fairy godmother.” Minus the handsome prince, too.
Kirk’s tone softened. “Your mom?”
Lyssa stopped in the middle of the trail and met his gaze. “She walked out when I was twelve and hasn’t been heard from since. My dad had no clue how to raise kids and didn’t bother figuring it out. He was focused on his own stuff.” Trying to save the whole world and not caring—or noticing—he’d lost his family.
Kirk caught her hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how hurtful that must have been.”
She pulled away. “I’m getting over it. Check the GPS. How close are we to the cache?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, like he understood how much even that bit of honesty had cost her. He couldn’t get it, of course. Not unless his family was as dysfunctional as hers. Finally he lifted the unit and examined the screen. “Not too much farther. I think.”
“Let’s go then.” She pivoted and headed up the trail. What guy in his right mind would stick around a girl like her? And he didn’t even suspect there was more to her reticence. Did he?