Cabin by the Lake (3 page)

He was getting closer as he spoke, leaning in, and she was so frightened she could hardly breathe. She reached into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out the cash. “Here,” she said, pushing the money into his hands. “That’s all I’ve got.”

“Oh hey, thanks,” he said, backing away. “You’re a good person, Lydia. I’ll see you around.”

She watched them leave feeling a numbness wash over her. She walked out into the street and gathered her things, stuffing them back in her purse.

Once safely inside the apartment, she clasped her hands together in her lap, trying to stop shivering. That wasn’t the first time she’d been approached by someone looking for drugs. But it was the scariest. That scene could have gone so much more wrong than merely losing a hundred dollars, although that was bad enough. As strung out as the three of them had looked, they could easily have forced their way inside and stolen everything of value, and hurt her and Jessie.

Or worse.

She didn’t know how to outrun a reputation when she had nowhere else to go and no money to get there.

She needed help. She lay down on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest in the fetal position, not bothering to undress any more than toeing off her shoes. She pulled the blanket over her head and closed her eyes as tears began to wet her pillow. As tired as she was, sleep was a long time coming.

The next morning, she called her old parole officer. Anne had just told her about a new program that helped low-risk felons find jobs in the corporate world. Maybe that would pan out for her.

She knew she could no longer stay there in that apartment, not now that Leon had connected the dots and knew where she lived. She knew he’d be back, along with his strung-out buddies, and she no longer felt safe. She not only wanted to move to a new apartment now, she wanted to move to another state or, better yet, another country. Tennessee didn’t feel like home anymore.

When Anne came by the apartment the next evening, she had the answer to her prayers. Her great-uncle was a lawyer in Georgia, and he had agreed to interview Lydia for a job as a receptionist in his law firm. It seemed too good to be true. Anne offered to drive her down and introduce her, and see if she would be a good fit for the firm.

That sounded great. The only drawback was that her uncle’s law firm was in Franklin, Georgia, the small town in which Vivian lived. That could be very awkward, with all the water that had gone under the bridge between them. She was sure her aunt hated her now, and as much as she would love to move to a new location and start over, there were so many memories there. She felt that this was a cruel joke. Could she really make this happen? This was a wonderful opportunity, and the least she could do was make the effort and check it out.

They left early Sunday morning and drove down, meeting with Anne’s great-uncle when the office was closed. That way the interview would remain private and her past history would be protected.

Mr. Lincoln met them in the reception area, and the interview lasted all of thirty minutes. He was elderly, but a man of quick decisions. Lydia loved what she saw, and wanted the job more than she’d wanted anything before.

With no waste of words, he stood and held out his hand. “I think you’ll do nicely.”

She clasped his hand. “You mean I’ve got the job?”

“It’s yours if you want it.”

“Oh, I want it,” she assured him, excited beyond belief. “Thank you so much. You won’t be sorry, sir.”

“I’m sure I won’t.” He gently ushered them out the door with an affectionate hug for Anne. “Betsy’s waiting for me. I’ll see you bright and early next Monday morning, young lady.”

Her head was spinning as they drove home. For once, she felt the need to call her mother. She needed a loan to buy a few new outfits until she got on her feet, although she hated to ask. She borrowed Anne’s cell phone and made the call.

But she didn’t have to ask. In her mother’s world, appearances were everything, and she was overjoyed to learn of Lydia’s new job. Katie started making plans immediately. “I’m checking my appointment book. Let’s see… Okay, I’ll pick you up Wednesday morning and we’ll go shopping for a whole new wardrobe. You certainly can’t work in a law office with those rags you own.”

“That’s not necessary, Mom,” she protested. “I just need a small loan.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. You’re finally moving up in the world and you need to look the part. I’ll pick you up at ten Wednesday morning. Be ready.”

Lydia thought that had worked out fairly well, but ten minutes later Katie called back stating that she had made arrangements for her to stay with Vivian. She was dismayed by her mother’s interference. “Don’t worry, it’s all arranged, and Vivian is looking forward to seeing you.”

She doubted that, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. When she ended the call, she was left with the feeling that she was caught up in something that might be bigger than what she could handle. Her mother did that to her. She always felt swept along by a hurricane when Katie was involved.

She wondered about the phone call to Vivian, and what her aunt really thought. It worried her, but the week ahead was busy and she didn’t have much time to obsess about her future while she was wrapping up the loose ends of her old life. She worked Monday and Tuesday at Barney’s and spent Wednesday power-shopping with her mother.

That shopping trip did not involve a thrift store or any other bargain clothing store that she usually patronized. Growing up, she had hated shopping with her mother; she was never allowed any input into her choice of style and didn’t feel comfortable in the clothes Katie insisted on buying for her.

But this time, other than having to endure her mother’s incessant criticism all day, things went well. She loved the clothes she tried on, and was surprised at her mother’s generosity. However, Katie was in her element and enjoying the one thing she was truly passionate about—shopping—and Lydia didn’t think her mother even had a clue about how much her credit card bill was going to be.

Katie also insisted on buying her a cell phone. She accepted the gift as graciously as she could, but couldn’t help but think that she was starting off her new life with a new monthly bill.

Her last day at Barney’s was Thursday, and he surprised her with a going-away party that night. Barney’s wife was there, along with Anne and her family, and Jessie, and a room full of loyal patrons who were there to wish her well.

Barney ceremoniously presented her with a silver bracelet with a clover leaf charm to remind her of her roots, he said in a toast, in case her success ever went to her head and she started to get uppity. That was greeted with a round of cheers, and she left with her heart filled with the warmth of friendships that she knew she would miss.

She spent Friday wrapping up business, which included a stop by the courthouse to make her name change official; she was serious about starting a new life. Saturday was hectic, spent clearing out all of her unnecessary possessions, which surprisingly, were quite a lot. She left all of her furniture for Jessie, but there was an amazing amount of things she had accumulated that she either threw away or donated. In a way, it was sad, she thought, that all of her relevant possessions fit into a Volkswagen Beetle.

She left early Sunday morning with her biggest fear being how she would be received by her aunt. If it became clear that Vivian wasn’t happy having her there, she would move into an apartment somewhere in town. But as the miles passed beneath her wheels, it really felt as if she was going home instead of moving to a new location. She had thought of nothing else for a week, warm memories from her childhood causing her to hope that things between her and Vivian could be as they used to be.

Close now, she caught a glimpse of the lake house through the trees. Another few twists and turns and her new life would begin. She parked and saw Vivian standing on the porch waiting for her. She took a moment as she got out of the car and looked up at the ridge across the road, stalling. But as her eyes swept the ridge, she had the odd feeling that she was being watched.

A chill ran down her arms, but the weird feeling passed after a few moments. She took a deep breath and turned to greet her aunt for the first time in a decade.

Mike Rodgers squatted on his haunches, resting as he surveyed the isolated log house by the lake below him. The house was occupied; a Jeep sat in the driveway, and a thin tendril of smoke wafted from the main chimney. A small cabin separated by woods to the left of the main house looked abandoned and unkempt.

Thunderheads were accumulating overhead. He considered sheltering in the cabin and moving on when the rain passed, but not knowing who he was dealing with, he thought he’d better announce himself, just to be on the safe side. Trouble was something he would avoid at all cost.

As he watched, Vivian came out onto the porch, clutching a grey sweater around her as if for protection. Her body language spoke of defeat and exhaustion. Her life was about to change in a big way, and she had no idea if she was ready for any kind of change—especially one she’d been forced into. She loved her sister, but Katie could be very self-centered at times. When she called last week to ask if Lydia could come and live with her for a while, she tried to say no; she wasn’t ready for something like that.

“It’s been over two years,” Katie said. “You can’t mope around forever. And besides, her new job is right there in Franklin. It’s like it was planned that way.”

“I’m sorry, Katie, but—”

“Vivian, I’ve already told Lydia you said yes.” Katie didn’t care if she had to lie to have her way.

“What? You can’t—”

“I don’t have time for this, Vi. I just met the most wonderful man—Bull Barnes, you’ve heard of him, right?—and I’m getting ready to go away with him for the weekend.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. Katie was apparently working on husband number five. Her sister had always been “the pretty one” but her beauty had never brought her happiness.”

“She’ll be starting her new job next week,” her sister coaxed, a whiny note entering her voice. “And you’re right there, with that big old house. You said yourself you were getting low on money. She would be paying you rent. Two birds with one stone. You’ll get some extra cash, and she will have a safe place to make a fresh start.”

Katie was definitely full of bull, but bottom line, she was also right; Vivian wasn’t going to win the lottery. She wasn’t going to inherit a fortune from a long lost uncle. No knight in shining armor was going to swoop in and save her from destitution.

True, she had lived the last two years alone in near isolation, slowly healing from the heartbreak of Todd’s death. She just recently began to dip her toes in the water of the community in which she used to be so active. She had touched base with a few of her friends who had dropped out of sight after she repeatedly turned down their invitations. Not great strides, perhaps, but definitely baby steps.

Now, her money was running out and she was in danger of having to sell the home in which she and Todd expected to live out their days together. They hadn’t planned well for the future; they thought they had plenty of time. She still did alterations, but it just wasn’t enough. She knew she needed to go to work for a company with insurance and benefits, but at fifty-five years old, just taking care of the home and grounds was almost more than she could handle, and her struggle with depression threatened to overwhelm her.

When Katie called with the solution to her problem, it seemed too much to hope that living with her niece would be successful. They hadn’t spoken in ten years and she felt uneasy with the thought of Lydia just suddenly moving in with her. She was family, but they’d had a falling-out and exchanged some hurtful words. She regretted the manner in which they had parted ways, but she did still love her.

“She needs a fresh start,” Katie said, “a sanctuary for her to put her life back together, and the lake is just the place. She’s paid her dues, Vi. Please.” In typical Katie style she added, “I don’t need this worry on my shoulders.”

Of course, in the end, she had agreed.

Mike watched her posture straighten as an older model Volkswagen Beetle swung around the curve and into the circular gravel driveway. After a few seconds of hesitation, the driver cut the engine and got out. He was immediately struck by the graceful beauty of the young woman as she unloaded a beat-up suitcase, a large duffle bag and a shoulder tote stuffed to overflowing. So, not a casual visit, he deduced.

Her shoulder-length, straight brown hair swung heavily as she moved. She was petite, maybe a couple of inches over five feet, and slim, dressed in faded jeans and a shapeless hoodie. Suddenly, she turned and seemed to look directly at him for a long moment, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head. He didn’t think she could see him, but perhaps she felt watched.

Maybe I should keep moving
, he thought. Sensing she could feel his eyes on her, he redirected his attention to the distant lake. Soon her gaze moved on, sweeping the ridge behind him. Impossible to tell at this distance, but he had the distinct feeling that her eyes might be green, the kind of eyes you could drown in.

Where had that come from? He closed down his mind like a steel door slamming. That’s what this whole backpacking trip was about, to shed old relationships, regain his sanity, and forget the past and all the painful memories. A woman was the last thing he needed in his life.

The newcomer turned and approached the woman waiting on the porch. Thunder rumbled and he glanced at the threatening sky, abruptly bringing his thoughts back in line.

He hesitated. He’d been hiking for a long time now, and the last thing he wanted was interaction with other humans, especially someone he found so attractive, even from afar. But with growing exhaustion and depleted supplies, he finally had to admit that he needed a break. At least he could find out his exact location and figure out the quickest route to replenish his provisions. This would be a quick stopover; in and out, a little information and some much needed rest out of the elements.

The wind kicked up, cooler now with the impending rain. Thunder rolled in the distance, getting closer by the minute. He watched the two women disappear into the big log home and came to a decision.

He began to move down from the crest, skating on nuts and pine needles, barely keeping his footing. His hands began to sweat at the thought of talking to people. Maybe he should just turn around and move on. No, sooner or later, he had to interact with other humans again. He slid his hands down the side of his jeans, wiping some of the sweat and dirt off, readjusted his backpack and began his mantra:
Peace, peace, peace.

Once inside the house, Lydia felt relief. Vivian had welcomed her with a firm hug and led her upstairs, giving her the grand tour along the way. It was much the same as she remembered it, rustic and warm. Vivian pointed out the choice of bedrooms; she would have the whole upstairs to herself. The two largest bedrooms were on either end of the house overlooking the lake, divided by a large sitting room in the middle.

She deposited her things in the cheerful yellow bedroom on the south end of the house, instantly feeling at home. She told her aunt as much, suddenly grateful to have been offered this hospitality. Vivian nodded in her perfunctory way and led her back downstairs and out to the covered back porch.

They sat in matching rockers, and she saw that the passage of time had not changed Vivian much. She was still slim, her hair a little more gray now, but still thick and wavy and, as always, on the verge of being out of control.

She felt uncomfortable, not knowing how her aunt felt about her. Even if their relationship was tense, she hoped at least she could make amends for her spiteful, childish behavior all those years ago. She was twenty-eight now. A decade had passed, and she hoped—prayed—that Vivian would forgive her and let bygones be bygones.

They rocked slowly, side by side, facing the lawn that led down to the lake’s edge. It was staying light a little longer now, but at five thirty the sun, barely visible, was already lowering over the lake. The sky was brilliantly lit by lightning strikes in the distance as angry clouds continued to move in. Soon they would have to go inside if the lightning got too close.

“You sure don’t talk as much as you used to,” Vivian said after a few minutes of strained silence.

She smiled slightly at her aunt’s straightforward comment. “I guess I’ve learned to listen a little more than I used to.”

Nodding, Vivian asked, “Is that your way of apologizing?”

She had forgotten how direct and to-the-point her aunt could be. Caught off guard, she snorted a laugh. “Yes, Aunt Vi. I
am
sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

Vivian nodded again, as if a weight had been lifted. She gave her the old smile, the one that she remembered from her childhood. “Then forget it. I’m sorry, too. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “That was a terrible day.”

“And it was a long time ago. Let’s start over.”

With that simple statement, she knew her aunt had put the past firmly behind them. She began to rock again as they watched the line of rain approaching from across the lake, like a curtain sweeping forward.

“I wish it could be as easy as that with Mom.”

“Katie loves you. You’re just—”

“I’m just not Brittany?”

Vivian laughed. “No, you’re certainly not Brittany, and thank goodness for that! You’re you, and you are perfect just the way you are. You went through a little rough patch, that’s all. Your mother tends to have a harsh streak sometimes, and I’m afraid you always received the brunt of that.”

“That’s what it still feels like.”

“I always felt sorry for your father and the three husbands who followed,” Vivian continued. “Nothing was ever good enough for Katie.”

“Except Brittany, you mean.”

Vivian shook her head in mock sadness. “Ah, Brittany. Poor girl, smart as a whip in school, but hasn’t got sense enough to get in out of the rain.”

Lydia threw back her head and laughed. That was an apt description of her sister. She relaxed for what felt like the first time in a really long while. Maybe this
could
be home, at least temporarily. At least until she transitioned herself into a normal life—one without bars around it, both literally and figuratively. She imagined a tiny band-aid attaching itself to her heart and felt a renewal of the love for her aunt who had been such a big part of her childhood.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw a figure approach out of the corner of her eye.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the man called. His sudden appearance on the pathway that led around the house startled both women. He was a big guy, dressed in ripped jeans and a well-worn coat that had seen better days. He carried a large hiker’s pack on his back, and his ball cap couldn’t conceal the shaggy blond hair sticking out from underneath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping forward with his hands up, palms facing outward to show he meant them no harm. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I knocked at the front and there wasn’t an answer.”

“What can I do for you?” asked Vivian.

“I’m hiking cross-country and I’m afraid I don’t know exactly where I am. Looks like we’re in for some bad weather, and I was wondering if I could get directions to the nearest town. I’m running low on supplies.”

“You got a name?”

He shrugged out of his backpack and walked over with an extended hand. “Mike Rodgers.”

She shook his hand. “Vivian Lancaster. Where’re you from, Mike?”

“Up north,” he said vaguely.

“You don’t sound like a Northerner.”

He laughed at her directness. “That’s because I’m from North Carolina, ma’am.”

She nodded. “And where are you headed?”

He shrugged. He’d already had more conversation than he’d had in weeks and he didn’t feel like being grilled. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. But he could surely understand her curiosity. He knew what he must look like; rough, dirty and unshaven. Thinking about it, he realized he was probably lucky she didn’t pull out the shotgun that he suspected she had handy. She looked the sort to be ready for anything. “Just wherever the path leads,” he finally said, smiling.

“Well, no wonder you’re lost,” she shot back, eliciting a small chuckle from Lydia who had been quietly watching the exchange. “This is my niece, Lydia—”

“Lydia Steadman,” she supplied.

“Ma’am,” he said, tipping his ball cap as he turned his attention to her.

He tipped his hat, for heaven’s sake!
she thought, highly amused. She had been sizing him up at her leisure and she thought she had his number. Drop-dead handsome underneath that layer of dirt. Oozing gentlemanly charm. Of course her male attraction meter was spiking off the charts, which meant he could be nothing but trouble.

Uh-uh, no way. Of course I’m attracted, because I’m attracted to every loser within hollering distance,
she thought. She’d fallen in love with every charming conman who had given her the time of day and made her feel special. Special for a while, anyway. But those days were over.

She may be attracted—who wouldn’t be, with that shaggy surfer-boy blond hair falling out from under his cap and those dreamy golden-brown eyes? But guys like him had ruined her life and she was immune now to the scruffy bad-boy types that seemed to draw her to them like metal shavings to a magnet.