Cara’s phone pinged with an incoming text.
Can we change our meet-up time to two? read the text from Joe.
Sure—see you then, she replied.
The house was quiet. Barney was off at one of her committee meetings, Des was upstairs making phone calls, and Allie and Nikki had taken Cara’s car to go into Wilkes-Barre to tour the old Comerford Theater, which had, at one time, rivaled the Sugarhouse for first-run films. Through her research, Nikki had found that the old Art Deco theater had been damaged during Hurricane Agnes, then renovated, and its name changed to the F. M. Kirby Center for the Performing Arts.
“It’s not far from here,” Nikki had pointed out over breakfast that morning, “and it’d be good to see firsthand what someone else has done. Of course, the Comerford was so much larger than the Sugarhouse, but I’ll bet a lot of the detailing inside is similar since it’s from the same era. Maybe we’ll get lucky and we can talk to someone who actually worked on the renovation. How cool would that be?”
Even Allie agreed that could be worthwhile. When Cara offered her car for the trip and Nikki had let out a whoop, Allie had no choice but to go.
At one forty-five, Cara walked the block to the theater. Joe was already out front talking to two men dressed in work clothes. His attention was diverted from them as he watched her walk across the street.
“Cara, meet Larry Masters and Rick Sennett. They just finished their inspection of the roof. Cara,” he told them, “is one of the owners of the theater and is working with me on the renovation.”
She shook hands with both men.
“How’d it look up there?” she asked.
“Not so good. You have shingles over shingles over badly broken tile,” Larry told her.
“Tile? On the roof?” Cara’s only experience with roofs was limited to shingles or cedar shakes.
“The style of the building is what some called Hollywood Moroccan,” he explained. “They put red clay tiles up there. I can’t believe anyone expected them to last for more than a few years. Then, instead of removing them, they simply put shingles over the tiles, and later, when that began to leak, they shingled over the whole thing.”
“So in other words, it’s a hot mess,” she said.
Rick nodded. “And some of the wood under the tile has to be replaced as well.”
“So if the roof leaked, where did the water go once it got inside the building?” Cara asked.
“Judging from the condition of the roof, I’d say the point of entry was the back wall of the building. The water would have run down between the exterior and the interior walls.”
Cara turned to Joe. “You can handle that, if the wall needs to be replaced?”
He nodded. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Larry, when can we expect your estimate for the replacement of the roof?”
“Friday at the earliest,” the roofer told him. “But remember, it’s going to be a tear-off of three layers and off the top of my head, I don’t know how many Dumpsters it’ll take.”
“Let us know. We’ll wait to hear from you.” Joe watched the two men head for their truck.
“This isn’t encouraging,” Cara said after the roofers had left. “Ripping off three layers of roof, water damage to the back of the building . . .”
“Yesterday the engineer said he thought there might be some damage behind that back wall, but he didn’t think it was structural. That’s the good news. If we have to take a wall down, we take it down. There’s lath underneath the plaster, and if water seeped into it, we’ll have to replace it. Then we’ll replaster. All very doable.”
“But a lot of money, right?”
“Well, you knew you were going to have to spend it. The roof will be one of the big tickets. There’s no getting around that, so let’s accept it and move on.”
“Move on to what?”
“Move on to what I had planned for the afternoon.” He took her by the elbow, walked her to his truck, and opened the passenger door.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“You’ll see.” He slammed her door and went around to the driver’s side.
“You said you had something for me,” Cara said after Joe got behind the wheel and started the truck.
“I do. Let’s just get to where we’re going.”
He looked across the seat and smiled at her, and the only thought in her mind was, to quote Nikki, OMG. He wore a burgundy waffle-knit henley, khaki pants, and dimples.
If I were looking for someone, if I were ready for someone, if I were in a better place . . . if I . . .
“Hey. You look cold.” He turned on the heater, then grabbed her hand. “You are cold. There are these things you wear on your hands when it’s cold out. They’re called gloves. You might look into getting a pair.”
“I left them in my car, which right now is somewhere between here and Wilkes-Barre.” She stretched her legs in front of her, hoping to reach the heat that blasted from under the dashboard, and told him about Allie and Nikki’s excursion.
“That’s a great idea.” Joe put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb. “I might want to talk to some of their contractors myself.”
“It was Nikki’s idea. I swear, no one has more enthusiasm for this project than that girl. She wants to know everything about the place, wants in on everything we say or do that has anything to do with the Sugarhouse.”
“It’s great to see the next generation show some interest. If the young people around here don’t start to do the same, this town is going to curl up and die.”
“I didn’t say she was staying. I only said she’s thrilled we have the theater. By Sunday night, she’ll be back in California, and we probably won’t see her again until the summer.”
“Allie’s all right with that?”
“I don’t think so. You know, she’s such an odd duck. She plays such hardball sometimes with people. Like she’s sarcastic and smart-mouthed—then you see her with her daughter and you see who she really is.”
“Who do you think she is?”
“A woman who desperately loves her kid and would do anything for her. I think Nikki is the only real thing in her life. The rest of it strikes me as being superficial. Nothing means anything to Allie, except Nik.”
Cara looked out the window. “I probably shouldn’t say that. I don’t really know her well enough to pass judgment.”
“That wasn’t passing judgment. That was making an observation.”
“One of my goals before I leave Hidden Falls is to get to know my sisters. Whether or not they want to know me is not the same thing, but that’s my goal.”
“What are your others? Besides getting the theater renovated.”
“I want to get to know my dad better.”
“I would think that might’ve been easier while he was still alive.”
“I know everything he wanted me to know, everything he wanted me to see, but there was so much he kept hidden. So much I know nothing about. That’s what I want to learn.”
“Maybe he kept things hidden for a reason.”
“There’s no reason good enough, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Now who’s playing hardball?”
“I talked to Barney about Gil Wheeler and the day he fell, and about my dad and his first wife and why he gave up acting. Something doesn’t add up. So another of my goals while I’m here is to figure it out.”
“In the meantime, grab that briefcase behind my seat.”
She reached around behind him and pulled the brown case to her.
“Open it. There’s a large envelope right inside.”
She opened it to find a thin stack of photos.
“The theater! Where did you find these?” she exclaimed.
“My grandmother had them. When I told her I was going to be working with you all, she started looking for them. She said Barney has a ton of them, but ‘knowing Barney, she has no idea where they are.’ ”
Cara studied the photos. “These are lovely. Look at that lobby. It’s exquisite. The paintings and the frescoes and the ceiling . . . It’s so wonderful to see it as it was back then.”
“These were taken when the place first opened. My great-granddad did some of the stucco work when it was first built, so he was always given VIP passes for whatever was going on.” He braked at a stop sign and selected a photo from the stack. He put his finger on a couple dressed in what must have been the fashion of the day. “Here are your great-grandparents . . .”
“The woman with the long fur dangling over her shoulder?”
He nodded. “And the man in the hat they’re talking to . . . that’s my great-grandfather.”
“Do you think I could borrow these, just to show Des and Allie?”
“Keep ’em. I scanned and printed copies for you. I knew you’d want them.”
They approached an intersection where the light had turned yellow. Joe slowed to a stop behind a mail truck.
“Thank you, Joe. That’s so thoughtful.” She held the photos in one hand and looked at him. Really looked at him. Saw the way he was looking at her—and deep inside she felt a zing she hadn’t been sure she’d ever feel again.
She cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. His smile said he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“I . . . ah . . . can’t wait to share these with Des and Allie. And Barney.”
“You already said that.”
“I did?” She frowned. “Sorry. I was so excited. About seeing the photos, I mean.”
She wondered if she could get through the rest of the drive without speaking. It seemed every time she opened her mouth, she was in danger of giving herself away. The thought of him was far too new, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know just how much he’d gotten through to her, past her defenses and around all the resolve.
“When is that idiot ex of yours getting married?” he asked, his eyes still locked on hers.
“Ah . . . the third weekend in the month. A week from Saturday.”
He frowned. “No, the third Saturday is this coming weekend.”
“What? No. That can’t be right.”
“Town council meets on the third Wednesday, which is this week. Which would make this Saturday also the third of the month.”
“Oh. Well. I guess it is, then.”
“How ’bout we go out and celebrate on Saturday night? Say goodbye to that old life of yours. You know, out with the old, in with the new?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about how I want to spend that night.”
“Trust me. You’ll never come up with something as cool as what I have planned.”
“That almost scares me,” she deadpanned.
“Nothing to fear. But I do have the perfect way to celebrate the occasion.” The light turned green and he drove through the intersection.
“Dare I ask . . . ?”
“Saturday night is bluegrass night at the gun club.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Go ahead. Top that.”
“That’s a joke, right?”
He shook his head from side to side. “Nope.”
“Bluegrass night at the gun club.”
“Best time you’ll ever have. Think it over.” He made a left turn onto a dirt road. “And the rest of the Hudson girls are welcome to join us. Even the young one. Good opportunity for her to meet other kids her age.”
Cara knew she was staring at him, but since he didn’t seem to mind, neither did she. “Well. I hardly know what to say. I mean, how does one turn down an invitation like that?”
“One does not. So is it a date?”
“I’m still stuck on the thought of Nikki meeting other kids her age. What kid thinks a night out at the gun club is a cool thing?”
“You’d be surprised.” He lowered his voice. “You might have noticed there’s not a whole lot for kids to do in Hidden Falls. Especially for kids who aren’t old enough to drive. Some weekends, it’s the gun club or nothing.”
“I may have a difficult time selling that to Allie.”
“Date?”
Cara nodded. “Sure. Date.”
He pulled into what once was a parking lot but was now a sea of broken concrete and clumps of grass.
“Where are we?” Cara looked around and saw nothing but tall pines.
“Compton Lake. Back when I was a kid, it was the place to go to have a good time.” He opened his door and hopped out.
Cara didn’t wait for him to come around to her side and met him in front of the truck.
“It’s a little . . . Is creepy too strong a word?” Cara frowned. Why would he bring her to such a place? “I don’t see a lake. Actually, I don’t see much of anything.”
“There’s plenty to see. Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her to a path between the trees.
“If Barney hadn’t vouched for you, I’d be worrying about your motives right now,” she said. “Did you ever see that movie So I Married an Axe Murderer?”
Joe laughed and directed her to a side path to their left.
“Great flick,” he told her.
“Figures.”
They walked a short distance more before a clearing opened up.
“Compton Lake, as promised.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, and it was. The lake was the truest of blues and, in the sunlight, seemed to reflect the sky. The surface was perfectly calm, and around the perimeter, tall pines grew straight. The effect was serene, like a painting come to life. “Breathtaking.”
“This is as pristine a mountain lake as you’ll find in the Poconos. There are a lot of lakes, but most of them are in the areas where there’s been the most development. Hidden Falls, as you probably noticed, has no little faux-Alpine cottages or A-frame cabins.”
“Why is that?” she asked. “How did Hidden Falls escape the developers?”
“A lot of the land around the outskirts of town belongs to one family, and they always refused to sell. I heard they’ve turned down millions in the past.” He nodded toward the lake. “The lake and the surrounding woods belong to them, too.”
“So they didn’t sell because they didn’t need the money, or because they thought they weren’t offered enough?”
“I think it was because they liked things the way they were, but you can ask Barney. I’m sure her father told her why he decided against selling.”
“The Hudsons own this?” Cara frowned. Barney hadn’t mentioned owning land outside of town. Then again, the subject had never come up.
Joe nodded. “Right down to the boathouse and the dock where that canoe is tied up. Come on.”
She followed him to the end of the dock, wondering what he was up to.
He pulled the rope that held the canoe to move it next to the dock.
“Ever been in a canoe?” he asked.
“Not since I was in high school and a bunch of us decided to explore the Pine Barrens.” She watched the canoe bob up and down. “There’s no way I’m going to get into that thing without tipping it over.”
“Sure there is.” Joe lowered himself into the canoe, then held it steady against the dock. “One foot at a time, or we’ll both be in the water.”
The sun was sparkling on the lake and warming the air, and Joe was holding out his hand to her, his eyes as bright as the sunlight on the water. She took his hand and stepped gingerly into the canoe.
“Okay, sit right there.” He gestured to the seat in front of her.
He sat across from her, then handed Cara an oar.
“You know how this is done, right? We paddle on opposite sides at the same time, then we switch.”
Cara nodded. “I remember.”
He pushed off from the dock and dipped his oar into the water. It took a few tries before they’d synched their strokes, but soon they were headed across the lake, competently, if not smoothly.
“So you were going to show me how to read an estimate to determine whether we’re being overcharged or not,” she said.
“Look for the labor charge—it should be on an hourly rate unless we negotiated a flat price—and should clearly show the number of hours.”
“How do I know if the hourly rate is too high?”
“Ask me.”
Cara laughed. “That’s your tutorial? Ask you?”
“I know what everyone should charge. The electricians, for example, charge anywhere from seventy to one hundred dollars an hour. Most trades are in that range.”
“Yow.”
Joe nodded. “That’s why you want to be present on the jobsite, so that when the bill comes in, you’ll know if the time has been exaggerated. And you want to make sure the timing is good. You don’t want the plumbers showing up on the job, standing around at that hourly rate while they wait for the electricians to get out of their way.”
“Got it.”
“What else do you want to know?”
Cara shook her head. “There’s a lot about construction that I don’t know. However, I do know that you’re undercharging us by a considerable amount of money. We’ve discussed it and we’re upping your fee by fifty thousand dollars.”
“Look, I owe Barney for—”
“This isn’t Barney’s project. If you want to show your gratitude to her, take her out to dinner once in a while. Send her flowers. But don’t confuse what you feel you owe her with what you’re doing at the theater. We want to be fair with everyone who works for us, and paying you way less than what your time is worth simply isn’t fair. Whatever you think you owe Barney is between you and her, but has nothing to do with this project.” She paused. “Apples and oranges, Joe. Get it?”
He nodded slowly. “Got it.”
They paddled quietly for a moment. Then Joe said, “If you have any questions about the work or what any of the contractors are doing, ask me. You have every right to know and every right to ask. Don’t let anyone intimidate you, hear? The theater belongs to you and your sisters, so whatever you say goes. You’re the boss. Don’t let anyone—even me—try to talk you into anything until you understand exactly what it is that you’re agreeing to.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
“Sure. Oh, by the way, I found the plans for the building.”
“Where were they?”
“In my mother’s garage. My dad apparently did some work for the guy who’d bought the theater from Fritz. When the guy went under, my dad rolled up the plans and stuck them on a shelf in the garage. I’ll have copies made for Liz and save a set for you.”
“That would be great, Joe. Thanks.”
“So. How ’bout having dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“I can’t. I promised Des I’d go to some meeting with her.”
“The town council meeting?”
“I guess. She said it was at the police station.”
“Why would she want to go to a council meeting?”
Cara shrugged. “Something about dog ordinances.”
“Des brought a dog with her?”
“No, but she’s thinking about doing some type of rescue, or fostering abused dogs. It’s something she did back in Montana, and she misses it.”
“Are you sure she isn’t going just to see Seth again?”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Well, I might see you there. It might be my month to give the fire report.”
“What fire report?”
“Report to the council on how many fires we had in town over the past thirty days. How many times we took the pumper out. The volunteer fire department—of which I am a member—reports to the council every month. Since we don’t really have a chief, we take turns reporting. So if it’s my month, I’ll see you there.”
“Well, aren’t you just a jack-of-all-trades. How many fires were there in Hidden Falls last month?”
“Yes, I am.” He steered the canoe toward the shoreline. “And there were none. We had the EMTs out twice, once for a suspected heart attack that turned out to be indigestion, and once for a fall in the parking lot behind the diner. Edie Parsons, who is about ninety, slipped on a banana peel and broke her hip.”
“I thought the old banana peel thing was just for cartoons.”
“She wasn’t laughing.”
“Are you an EMT also?”
Joe nodded. “I was a medic in the army.”
“Were you stateside, or—”
“Or Iraq, yes. I did my time, then got out and came home while I was still in one piece.”
“You’re lucky,” she said.
“You have no idea.”
Cara could feel Joe’s eyes on her. Finally, he said, “You want to ask, right? What it was like? It was hell.”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“It’s one of those crazy things. On the one hand, I wish to God I’d never gone. That I hadn’t seen some of the things I’ve seen. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have missed it. I served with some of the finest human beings I’ve ever met, men and women. I got to see what true courage is, the kind that makes heroes out of ordinary men. I saw selfless acts that took my breath away, saw men risk their lives to save civilians as well as their buddies. I saw the best in men, and, unfortunately, at times I saw the worst. But I saw that the good guys outnumber the bad by far, and it’s the good I want to remember.” Joe’s oar went still in the water. “And as a medic, I remember everyone we couldn’t save.”
“Joe, I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to live through that, then to come back and be the same person you were when you left.”
“No one’s the same, Cara. You can’t unsee, you can’t undo. But if you’re lucky, you’ll learn something important from the experience that goes with you when you leave.”
“Would I be out of line asking what you learned?”
“Not at all. But I should put it in context.” He resumed paddling for a moment, then stopped again, and they drifted on the smooth surface of the lake toward the opposite shore. “I joined the army because I wanted to escape Hidden Falls and I couldn’t afford to leave and go anyplace else. Growing up as the son of the town drunk was really tough. My father’s shadow followed me everywhere I went. I went to college and it was great having four years where I didn’t have to be embarrassed about my family, where there were no whispers when I went to class in the morning because of something my father had done the night before. But college was only four years, and I had the rest of my life ahead of me. I was really torn about where to go, what to do. Of course, my mother wanted me to come back home, but I couldn’t face that scene again. So Ben and Seth and I talked it over and decided we’d enlist together right after we graduated. We thought we’d be serving together, but the army had other ideas. Ben got into the military police and stayed in the States. Seth and I were deployed, but not at the same time. He was injured and shipped home within eighteen months, so he was out before Ben or I came home. I think he’d have traded the extra time home for that shot he took in the leg.”
“I don’t know Seth,” she told him.
“He was at the Bullfrog the other night. I saw him talking to Des at the bar. Tall guy, bald, lots of tats?”
“I only saw him from the back,” Cara said. “You really chose the army over Hidden Falls?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“That important thing you learned . . .” she reminded him.
“For so long, I couldn’t wait to leave, and after being away, seeing what the world is really like, I learned the only things that really matter are the people in your life. Your family, your friends. It’s such a cliché, right? But when you see what we saw over there, it all becomes crystal clear.” Joe sighed. “So at the risk of sounding like Dorothy, I learned there really is no place like home.
“So you’re planning on staying in Hidden Falls?”
He shrugged. “I’m a lifer.”
“It’s not a bad place to live. I’m enjoying my time here. I miss my friends and my studio. I miss teaching. But I like the pace here. It suits my temperament.”
“It’s that laid-back vibe you got from your mother.”
“That’s probably true.”
Joe began to paddle, and Cara followed suit. “Anyway, that’s the story of the three amigos who had visions of fighting the enemy together and coming back to a welcome-home parade.”
“No parade?”
“Seth got a party at the Frog.” He smiled good-naturedly. “Which I missed because I was still dumping sand out of my clothes in the desert. I’m just happy that part of my life is over, and I’m here.” He paused. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here, too.”
“Let’s head for that shady area and get out of the sun.” Joe pointed to a section of the lake where the trees grew almost to the waterline. Once out of the direct sunlight, the air was cooler and the scent of the pines was stronger.
“By the way, I emailed my contract to Pete Wheeler for him to look over,” Joe said.
“I thought he was going to draw up the contract.”
“I wanted to use my own. It seems to me that sometimes lawyers make things more complicated than they need to be. So I typed up my own and sent it to him this morning. I haven’t heard back from him yet, but it’s early.”
“Can I have a copy of what you sent him?”
“It’s in my briefcase. It’s not that complicated. It says that I’ll act as your project manager from this date until the project is finished, and it says how much I’m charging you.”
“Which has to be changed,” Cara reminded him, but gestured for him to continue.
“In the event either party wants to void the contract, we can do so with thirty days’ notice. That gives either of us a month, me to finish up whatever might be outstanding, you to find someone else. Read it over and tell me if you think we should add anything else.”
She continued to paddle and they followed the curve of the lake.
“I included my proof of insurance and asked that I be added as an additional named insured on yours.” Joe paused. “You do have insurance, right?”
“I don’t know. Maybe for fire, but I’m not really sure.”
“Then you need to call your broker as soon as possible and find out. You have people coming and going, you have a liability situation here. Call Jen Welsh. She’ll know what you need.”
He stopped rowing and pointed toward the shore. Cara turned and saw a doe with two fawns stepping beyond the tree line.
“She’s beautiful,” Cara whispered. “And her babies are adorable. They’re the first I’ve seen since I’ve been here.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t seen them around the house, with all the woods around Hudson Street.”
“I run in the woods and I haven’t seen anything but a couple of birds.”
Joe resumed paddling, and so did she.
“There’s all sorts of wildlife here. Raccoons, opossums, skunks . . .”
“Ugh. I’d hate to run into one of those.” Cara made a face. “Way to start your morning.”
“They don’t spray unless they feel threatened. So if you come across one, don’t approach it.”
“Duh.” She rolled her eyes, and Joe laughed.
“The best thing you can do is just turn your back and slowly walk away. Which is not what you should do if you meet up with a bear.”
“Right,” she scoffed. “Like there’re bears behind Barney’s house.”
“There are bears all around here. You’re in their home territory. You don’t mess with bears.”
“Then why haven’t I seen any?”
“Probably because they’re just coming out of hibernation. You might want to change your morning route since the weather’s warmed up. Last thing you want is to come face-to-face with a grumpy old mama that just rolled out of her den.”
“Oh, like you have, Daniel Boone?”
He laid the oar across his knees, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and started to pull it over his head.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Showing you what happens when you get too close to a grumpy bear.”
The guy was ripped. There was no other word for it. His chest was well defined with just a sprinkling of dark hair that contrasted with his skin, which still bore the faint remnants of last summer’s tan.
Cara’s mouth went dry. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen anyone that well built who wasn’t on the cover of Men’s Fitness magazine.
“Right here,” he was saying, his fingers splayed on his left side.
“What?”
“This is where she got me.” When Cara didn’t respond—because she was still staring—he said, “The bear. See the claw marks? She got me good.” He pointed to the three long white scars that went from his rib cage toward his back.
Cara cleared her throat. “A bear did that?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” He pulled his shirt back on and picked up the oar.
“When did that happen?”
“When I was twelve. Julie and I were hiking up behind the falls. The bear came out of nowhere, swinging like a prizefighter. I told Julie to run, and she did, thank God. The damned thing took one big swipe at me, knocked me down, and took off. I was lucky, I know. She could have killed me. As it was, I lost a lot of blood. Jules went home and got our dad. He carried me down to his car and drove me straight to the ER. They gave me blood and a bunch of stitches and sent me home with the advice to stay out of the woods.”
“You were lucky. She really could have killed you.” And what a total waste that would have been.
Joe changed direction and pointed the canoe back toward the dock.
“I’ve seen them out here around the lake, too. Which is why I prefer canoeing to hiking.”
“Do you come out here a lot?” she asked.
“When the weather’s good, yeah. It’s peaceful and beautiful and Barney doesn’t mind. She said I’m doing her a favor by keeping an eye on the place for her. Which we both know is a crock, but it’s nice of her to say.”
“Where do you keep the canoe?”
“In summer, I leave it in the boathouse.” He pointed toward the building Cara had noticed earlier. “Through the winter and early spring, I keep it in my garage because I’m not out here often enough to check on things.”
“So how did it get here today?”
“I drove out earlier and dropped it in the water.”
“I like a man who plans ahead,” she said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They paddled back to the dock, pausing once to watch a flock of geese fly across the surface of the water. When they reached the dock, Joe maneuvered the canoe so Cara could safely climb out. He followed, dragging the canoe to shore, where he stood it up on one end.
“Can you carry the oars?” he asked.
“Sure.” She picked them up in both hands. They were long and unwieldy, but she managed to carry them back to the truck without dropping them or smacking Joe in the head.
They reached the truck and Joe loaded the canoe on, then reached for the oars.
“Had enough nature for the afternoon?” he asked as he slid the oars onto the flatbed.
“I had enough after the bear story.” She glanced warily at the woods surrounding the parking lot. If a bear came charging out of there right then . . .
“I’d scare it off with an oar.”
“What? How did you know what I was thinking?”
Joe laughed. “You had that ‘Oh God, what if’ look on your face.” He opened the passenger door.
“Nice to know I’m so transparent.” She climbed into the seat and Joe closed the door.
“I hope I didn’t scare you. Showing off my scars, that is.” Joe hopped in and started the truck.
“Well, let’s call it a new awareness that we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
He turned on the radio, which was set to a country music station.
Cara looked across the cab and smiled, thinking back to the dance at the Bullfrog the other night.
“Can’t get away from that country music,” she said.
“There’s a station that plays oldies from the fifties and sixties. Maybe you can find it.”
“We found a ton of fifties records in Barney’s attic and we played them.” Cara took over the radio dial. “Barney even taught us how to dance like they did back then.”
“You can teach me, next time the VFW has oldies night.”
“I’ll do that.”
Why was it, she wondered, that the trip back from someplace always felt faster than the trip to? It seemed no time at all before they were pulling up in front of the house.
Cara gathered her bag and the envelope he’d given her.
“Wait,” Joe said. “Let me give you that copy of the contract I sent to Pete.”
He opened the briefcase and handed her an envelope much like the one that held the photos.
“Let me know if you have any questions, and if you’re okay with it, let Pete know.”
“I’ll do that, thanks.”
“And don’t forget to check on the insurance for the building.”
“Right.” She held up the envelopes. “I know everyone is going to love these. Again, that was very thoughtful of you.”
“Well, I guess that means I was thinking about you, doesn’t it?” He gave her arm a squeeze.
“So maybe I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow night.”
For a second she thought he was going to kiss her. He had that look about him as he leaned in and held her gaze for a very long moment. But then the spell was broken and he reached across her to open her door.
“I’ll see you there.”
Clutching the envelopes holding the photos and Joe’s contract to her chest, she jumped out of the truck and headed up the driveway to the house, wondering what she would have done if he had kissed her.
No question. She’d have kissed him back.