Ian instinctively knew what his dad was about to say before he’d even opened his mouth. Honestly, he’d been expecting it anyway, so he couldn’t claim to be surprised. Except he was. Surprised and ticked off. Because he’d promised—no work. This was supposed to be their time together.
“I’m sorry, Ian. Rafe needs help from the FBI and it’s not right for somebody to have to come from Austin when I’m already here.”
“But it’s not fair. You promised this was our time. Now you’re going to work, and there’s nothing for me to do.”
“Come on…”
“No, you come on. Whenever you say we’ll do something, we never do. Work always comes first.”
He felt a horrible burning pain in the middle of his chest, red hot and growing. It happened more and more lately, making him want to throw things. Break something. Scream at the top of his lungs until he couldn’t scream anymore. Balling his hands into fists at his sides, he fought down the urge to punch his dad hard. Make him understand how bad he hurt inside.
“We can still go to the clubhouse. As soon as I get back, we’ll head over.”
“Forget it. It’s not important anyway. Go help the sheriff.”
“Ian—”
“I understand, Dad. I’m mad, okay? I’m being a jerk. Just go. Like you always tell me, the faster you go, the faster you’ll get back.”
His dad sighed, and Ian knew deep down he was being a brat and making his dad feel bad. It wasn’t his dad’s fault that everybody needed him. His dad worked hard. Sometimes he’d wake up and see his dad’s light on. More than once, he’d tiptoed down the hall and saw him working on his computer while Ian had been asleep.
“Promise me you’ll stay here. I already talked to Miss Edna, and she’ll keep an eye on you. Do not leave the B&B for any reason. Keep your cell phone with you, so I can check up on you while I’m gone. Do not—”
He rolled his eyes, and barely contained a scream. “Dad, I know the rules. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t take anything to eat or drink from anybody you don’t approve of. Don’t go outside. Don’t leave the property. I’m not a baby.”
“No, you’re not. You’re so grown up it scares me. Sometimes—doing what I do, seeing the kinds of people I have to arrest—it scares me something bad might happen to you. So I tend to be overly cautious. That’s what dads do.”
Ian dropped his chin to his chest, feeling like a jerk. Hearing his dad talk about the bad people he dealt with every day, could he blame him for wanting to catch the bad guys and keep people safe? It wasn’t like he was leaving him behind in Shiloh Springs and heading back to Austin without him.
“I get it, Dad. I promise. Go help Rafe catch the bad guys, and then we’ll go shoot hoops. I’ve got my games, I can keep busy.”
“Thank you. When I get back, we’ll do whatever you want, promise.”
It felt good when his dad pulled him in for a hug, but the burning anger in his chest hadn’t gone away, not really, but the white-hot fury that consumed him earlier had faded. Guess he’d better get used to the feeling, because he doubted things would change. Not really.
“Phone on you at all times, got it?”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his phone out and held it up to show his dad. Sheesh, he wasn’t stupid enough to leave his phone. Sometimes he forgot to charge it, but he never left it anywhere.
When his dad pulled him into a headlock and started scrubbing his hand over his hair, he struggled to get loose, giggling the whole time. Twisting in his dad’s arms, he felt his father’s fingers digging into his sides, tickling him, and he wiggled and shifted, laughing so hard he lost his breath.
Finally, when he couldn’t take another second of it, he was free, his father’s grin making everything better.
“Be good. Don’t give Miss Edna any problems.”
“I will. I won’t. I mean, I’ll be good, and I won’t give Miss Edna any difficulty.”
“See you in a bit, kiddo.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get lost, old man.”
His dad chuckled at his words, and within seconds, he was out the front door, leaving Ian behind.
Plopping down on one of the chairs in the lobby, he laid his phone on the arm of the chair and took out his video game, immediately pulling up his character and started killing zombie hoards.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when his stomach growled, he decided to see if Miss Edna had any snacks. Cookies would be good right about now. Or cake. He hadn’t had cake since the piece he’d shared in the diner with his dad. And he loved cake, especially German chocolate. All the gooey coconut and pecans on top? Yum. While he wasn’t super strict, his dad didn’t keep a lot of junk food in his condo, so Ian didn’t get nearly the sugar rush he used to get living with his mom. She always had sweets around. Claimed she was a chocaholic and needed to get her fix when the urge struck. Ian reaped the benefits of always having sugary treats available. Sometimes he wondered if he missed his mom’s lax attitude about everything more than he missed her.
Setting his game next to his phone on the arm of the chair, he headed to the kitchen and found Miss Edna unloading the dishwasher. Without a word, he pitched in over her protests. It wasn’t much work to put dishes into cupboards, and he didn’t mind helping. Especially since Miss Edna was old, like really old, and couldn’t get around so good.
“Thank you, Ian. As my momma used to say, many hands make light work.”
Ian’s brow scrunched up. “What’s that mean?”
Miss Edna smiled and handed him the cookie jar without him even having to ask for anything. “It means when people work together, the job gets done faster and isn’t as hard as doing it alone.”
“That makes sense.”
“Help yourself to some cookies. Growing boys need to eat lots. It helps them grow big and strong.”
Ian looked down at his thin frame. “It’ll take a lot of cookies to make me bigger.”
Miss Edna patted his hand. “Trust me, you’re going to wind up as big as your dad, maybe bigger. You might be small now, but you’ve got good bones. When your growth spurt hits, you’re gonna be like one of those lone oaks. Strong and sturdy and immovable.”
“I’d like that.” Because he hated being the small kid in class. He either got picked on or ignored. Sometimes being invisible wasn’t a bad thing.
“Want some milk with those cookies?”
Ian nodded, taking another bite. These snickerdoodles tasted good. He liked the cinnamon and sugar on the outside. A glass of milk appeared on the table in front of him, and he thanked Miss Edna around a mouthful of cookie.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why is the B&B named The Creekside Inn? We’ve stayed here a couple times, and I haven’t seen any creeks.”
Miss Edna chuckled and lots of lines crinkled out from the corners of her eyes. Like the ones his mom used to call laugh lines. Guess Miss Edna did a lot of laughing, coz she sure had a lot of them.
“There is a creek, but it’s not exactly close anymore. Did you know that rivers and creeks can change their courses over lots of years? When the house was first built, the creek ran behind it. Never close, but it was fresh water for the gardens and kept the land lush and green. Over the years, things like erosion, flooding, and the speed of the water all worked together until the creek is much farther away now than it used to be.”
“It’s still out there?” Ian took a big swig of his milk and wiped his mouth on the back of his forearm.
“Oh, yes. It’s not one of the bigger ones, like the one running through the Boudreau ranch, but it’s still out there.”
Miss Edna stood and pointed toward the back of the B&B, where there were lots of tall trees, almost looking like a forest, visible through the large glass windows. Even squinting, he couldn’t make out anything that looked like water.
“I used to head over to the creek on the really hot days. Course, I was younger then.” She chuckled before adding, “Nowadays, I stick to inside plumbing and running water when I need to cool off.”
“It’s deep enough for swimming in?”
“Not so much swimming, as lounging around while the water laps around you. On me, it wasn’t waist deep. But it gets deep pretty quick if we get a gully washer. Been known to have a flash flood or two when she overflows her banks.”
Ian laid down his cookie and looked at Miss Edna. “What’s a gully washer?”
She chuckled and struggled to her feet. When he started to jump up, she waved him back and leaned forward on the kitchen table.
“A gully washer is what we old fogies call a quick, heavy thunderstorm, where the rain comes quick and hard. The ground gets wet so fast it can’t absorb the water fast enough, and it causes flooding.
Ian committed the word and its meaning to memory, wanting to see if he could stump his dad with it later.
“Well, I got to get to the next batch of laundry. You need anything else?”
“No, ma’am. Thanks for the cookies.”
She smiled at him, waving her hand around the kitchen. “My pleasure, Ian. I used to love baking, but I don’t get to do it so much anymore. Not as many folks stopping and staying here as there used to be.”
Ian watched her walk out of the kitchen, her gait ambling and slow. He admired her because she still worked hard, and he figured it couldn’t be easy. Judging from her appearance, she had to be ancient. Something outside the sunroom’s window caught his eye, a movement that flickered in the corner of his vision, and he walked through the kitchen into the light-filled space.
A red bird perched on the edge of a bird feeder hanging from the eaves. A few more dark-colored ones swooped by, and the red bird let out a screech. Ian grinned, imaging she was warning the others to stay back and mind their own business until she was done. She wasn’t gonna let them get close, not until she was good and ready.
Moving closer to the window, he studied the grounds behind the bed and breakfast. He’d never bothered before, because usually they only stayed overnight, except for recently when they’d spent the weekends looking for a place to live.
Several feet past the windows an area that had been cleared, then covered with small stones, mostly white but some tan colored. Shaped in a circular design, the center of the clearing held a firepit made of bigger stones of various sizes and colors. The center held a large metal container, bowl-shaped and rounded at the bottom, that was filled with pieces of wood.
Four wooden chairs with large backs encircled the firepit, painted forest green. Several feet away he spotted a fountain, the water bubbling up and spilling out of a large fish’s mouth. Ian grinned and made fish lips, wiggling them several times.
He spotted a couple more areas that looked like large boxes made from wood, shaped like large rectangles. The wood looked old and gray, weathered with age, and worn smooth in places along the edges. Each of the two enclosed areas overflowed with all kinds of green, growing things. Most of them he didn’t recognize, but from the orderly rows and abundant leaves, he’d guess it was Miss Edna’s vegetable garden.
Beyond the firepit and fountain, a large forest spread out, huge pine trees stretching toward the sky. Lots of smaller trees and bushes grew in clusters lower to the ground, the earth covered with discarded pine needles, brown and brittle. Prickly pinecones lay scattered on the forest floor, like discarded soldiers from a long-forgotten battlefield.
Casting a glance over his shoulder, he didn’t see anybody and moved closer to the door leading outside. He just wanted a closer look. Besides, he was tired of being trapped inside, with nothing to do. His video game was getting boring, and he’d have to talk to his dad about letting him use his allowance to get a new one.
After another surreptitious glance over his shoulder, he opened the door and eased through, making sure it didn’t make any noise as it closed. His first stop was the vegetable patch. Running his fingertips along the vibrant green, he grinned. When he spotted the carrot tops, he dipped his fingers into the dirt, exposing the brilliant orange color just beneath the surface. At least those he recognized.
He strolled over to the firepit area, and flopped down into one of the chairs, crossing his feet at the ankles. This was cool. Maybe if they were going to be here for a couple of days while they waited for the furniture, he could talk his dad into building a fire and they could get some marshmallows to roast. He’d never done them outdoors, only in the fireplace when he lived with…
Letting the thought trail off, he squeezed his eyes shut against the burning pain in his chest. No matter how many times his dad explained it wasn’t his fault mom had left, he knew different. She’d been so unhappy, always crying when she didn’t think he could hear. He’d tried not to do anything to upset her, but no matter what he did, nothing seemed to help. And she still left. Left him behind, tossed him aside like he was a snot-filled Kleenex.
Jerking his head up at the sound of a dog barking, his gaze searched the yard, but he didn’t see anything. He loved dogs and really wanted one, but living in the condo, it wasn’t fair to the animal to be cooped up. Something Ian understood well, because far too many days, that was exactly how he felt. Moving to Shiloh Springs wouldn’t change that any; he was simply exchanging one lonely location for another. Same problem, different location, that’s all.
At another bark, he caught movement from the corner of his eye and spotted a dark brown dog. It stood just inside the tree line, and its coat looked like a melted chocolate bar. Cocking its head to the side, the dog studied him as closely as he studied it. From here, he couldn’t tell if it was a male or a female, but despite the barking, he didn’t think it was aggressive. In fact, from the rapidly wagging tail, it seemed friendly.
“Hey, pup. What are you up to?”
The dog took a tentative step forward at his voice, and then another, stopping to watch him with a guarded stare. Its pink tongue hung out of the side of its mouth and with a happy yip, the dog gave a playful lunge forward and then retreated, tail whirling a mile a minute.
Ian grinned at the dog’s antics. Easing from the chair, he squatted down and patted his thigh, enticing the animal closer. After what seemed like forever, the dog took a tentative step forward, then another. Soon it stood within a foot of him. Reaching out his hand, palm down, Ian held his breath, hoping the dog would trust him because he really wanted to pet it.
A cold, wet nose pressed against his hand, the whiskers tickling against his palm. Ian ran his hand over the dog’s head and scratched behind its ears. The dog responded by pushing his head into his hand, welcoming Ian’s fingers digging into his coat, at least that’s how it seemed to him.
This activity went on for several minutes as Ian played with the dog, laughing out loud when the dog flopped onto his back, wanting his belly rubbed. And it was definitely a male.
Inside the B&B a door slammed, startling the animal. Jerking beneath Ian’s hand, the dog squirmed and wiggled free, heading for the trees. Without a single thought, Ian raced after the dog, disappearing into the dense foliage.