Forever Wife (6 page)

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly.  “You forget, I own Camp Birches.”

She took a step back, her fingers fluttering to her lips.  “But – but you can’t stay here,” she stammered.  “You and Tracy never really got along.  And I don’t know how long she’ll be here.”

“You are welcome to stay here indefinitely,” Vidar said smoothly.  Yeah, just let her try to leave!  Now that he’d found her again, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight. 

“But – but!”

“I will let you two have your privacy. I have some business I can attend to in the office. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“I’ll know,” she muttered, her delicate eyebrows drawing together. He leaned forward, tempted to kiss away the crease
, but she scooted around him, her breath coming in fast little gasps betraying her desire for him. 

Vidar went into the home office and closed the door.  It about killed him to do so.  He was a tad afraid she
might pair up with that girl Tracy and disappear again!  He clenched his teeth, wondering how long he would have to pussyfoot around before she realized that they belonged together.  Closing his eyes, he reached out with his mind, gathering the four corners of the cabin around him.  He felt the pull of the hematite, felt the protection charm he had cast and renewed it, adding a bit more.  If Beth left, he would know it.  Then he slid into the padded office chair before dialing the first of many phone calls he needed to make regarding the investors he had lined up for the casino project.

Liz dusted and swept while she waited for Tracy, more for something to do rather than because
she had the sudden urge to develop her domestic skills.  She threw open a few windows to freshen the place, although it was still a bit too nippy to leave them open for long. She did manage to find a bit of coffee and brewed a fresh pot to have something to offer her friend when she arrived. 

Tracy announced her arrival with a quick tap of her car horn.  Liz dash outside in time to see Tracy struggle with several boxes full of stuff.  “What on earth!” she cried as she grabbed one box before Tracy dropped it.  “What is all of this?”

“I’ve been busy,” Tracy said, her voice loud with excitement.  “I found some back newspapers from when the town fought a major water bottling company that wanted to come in and bottle our groundwater. I’d forgotten about that, as it happened when we were in high school and I wasn’t really in to causes back then.  But apparently enough people thought it was a bad idea that they forced the company to look elsewhere.  They started with petitions, so I went to Kinko’s and got some printed off.”

Liz placed her box on the kitchen table, then began to unload
its contents.  “Wow, Tracy.  You have been busy.”

“Thanks to you!  All I’d done before was just fret about it, but you got me motivated to do something!”

“But I haven’t done anything yet,” Liz said.

“Silly goose, of course you have – and is that coffee I smell?  Wonderful – I was so busy I up half the night.  Pour me some, will you?  Now, about these petitions, we need to get as many signatures as we can.  I called the town board and got us put on the docket for their next meeting, which
is Thursday.  That’s our time frame.”

For the next several hours, Liz and Tracy poured over the newspapers, scanned the library books and pamphlets Tracy had checked out, scribbled down ideas and brainstormed some more.  Liz felt something waking up inside, something like hope.  It didn’t matter that she had lost Camp Birches… if she could save the lake, she would feel like she had managed to do something good with her life.  But sitting for hours was hard on her back.  She had to get up to pop some aspirin, washing it down with the last of the cold coffee. 

Tracy tugged on the refrigerator door and groaned.  “Lizzy, why haven’t you gone grocery shopping yet?”

“I don’t have a car.”

“But what about that shiny rental in your driveway?”

Liz shrugged.  “That’s Vidar’s. You remember him, my godfather?  He showed up last night, but he promised to stay out of the way.  As I recall, you two never really got along.”

Tracy shuddered, pulling a face.  “Ew.  He creeped me out.”

“Why?”

“The way he was always watching you?  Didn’t you notice? He had the hots for you, babe, and you were just a kid.  It was gross.  He’s so much older than you.”

Liz laughed, startled by her friend’s confession. “You’ve got it all wrong, Tracy.  I had the crush on him – not the other way around.”

“You can delude yourself all you want, but I know what I saw.  Apparently your dad saw the same thing, since he sent him away.”

Did everyone know about that except her?  Liz felt a pain in her gut that had nothing to do with hunger.  Did Vidar really have feelings for her?  Was that even possible?  His age just wasn’t an issue any more.  Maybe the difference between fifteen and thirty-something was gross, but now that she was nearly thirty…  of course, that meant that Vidar should be pushing fifty, and he still didn’t look a day over thirty-five.  Argh! It was so unfair!  How could some people hide their age so well?

“I need to get going anyway,” Tracy said, pilling some of the books back into her box. 

“Here, let me help.”

“No, the rest can stay here.  I just have to return these things – I could only check them out for a week, since they’re resource material.  So, are you ready to go door to door with me tomorrow, and we’ll get some volunteers to help us with the petitions?”

“Sure.  But not until afternoon.  Sunday mornings are a lousy time to try to find anyone home.” 

She waved as Tracy turned her car around, honking several quick taps as she left.  Only when she was out of sight did Vidar come out of his office. 

“Coward,” she called, teasing him for hiding from her girl friend.

“Ah, it’s a wise man who knows what battles are worth waging and what ones are best avoided,” he said smoothly. 

“So Tracy is a battle, huh?  Didn’t know she intimidated you so much.” 

Vidar put his arm around her, tucking her up close to his side.  “I can think of much more romantic things to discuss than your friend Tracy,” he whispered into her ear.  His hot breath stirred a loose strand of hair and it tickled.  Liz snuggled closer, pressing her face into his strong shoulder. How delicious he smelled!  Her stomach rumbled, slightly queasy from the stale black coffee. 

“Let’s go for a ride,” Vidar said.  He led her towards the front door, a picnic hamper clutched in his other hand. Liz hadn’t seen him grab it, and wondered what he had managed to find to put in it, but then he kissed her!  His lips pressed against her forehead in a gesture that was definitely not the platonic relationship of godfather and godchild.  As if she had any lingering doubts on where his thoughts lay, his lips moved lower, capturing hers, devouring hers, his tongue plunged inside, hungry for her. Liz didn’t care where their ride would take them. She didn’t care if the picnic hamper was devoid of all food, but only contained a blanket to cushion the cold early-spring ground – all she wanted was to let him kiss her again and again… and then maybe some more.

He led her away from the cabin, away from his rental car, and down towards the boat dock.  She hadn’t even noticed that the boat dock was in already.  Most people dry-docked them over the winter to protect them from ice damage.  But there, tied up to the dock was a beautiful little sailboat!  The mast was tall and slender, a bright flag fluttering cheerily at the top.  Although it looked to be only about nineteen – maybe twenty feet long, it boasted a cabin tucked under the fore deck.  It was a far cry from the little rowboat her parents had given her!  And how like Vidar… she’d always felt he was more comfortable with ancient technology, although he had no problems maneuvering the Internet.  There was just something decidedly old-fashioned about him.

He held her hand as she stepped onto the deck, the small boat rocking slightly
beneath her weight.  She grabbed the mast for balance, then carefully made her way to the opposite side where he gestured she  should sit.  Vidar stepped on next, giving the boat a gentle send off before taking the tiller. With an easy motion, he raised the sail, adjusting the sheets until he caught a slight breeze, and then they were off. 

Liz closed her eyes and smiled as the cool breeze kissed her face.  She felt her pulse increase, felt excitement thrum within, similar to the adrenaline rush she used to get from riding.  She loved the gentle rocking motion of the boat as it rose and dipped with the waves. 

Before long, Vidar taught her how to duck as they “came about” – a sailing term for changing tack.  The boom – a solid wood beam that held the mainsail – swung across the boat and would have knocked her overboard if she hadn’t ducked.  Then the breeze filled the sail again as the boat zigzagged across the lake. 

There was no need for conversation.  Vidar looked so handsome manning the tiller.  He wore only a light
windbreaker, which did little to conceal his strong, capable arms.  A hat with a brim shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun, but no sunglasses hid his face from her.  She gazed at him, loving the hungry look in his eyes.  Could it be?  Did he really feel this way about her, or was she reading him wrong? Was she only seeing what she wanted to see?  But why would he have kissed her, if he didn’t want her?  Of course, wanting her because she was available or wanting her because he couldn’t live without her were definitely two different things.  She would enjoy the afternoon and let it play out, but she should guard her heart, lest he break it again.  She wasn’t sure how much more heartache it could endure.

Their foreword motion slowed.  Vidar loosened the halyards, bringing down the sails.  Liz looked away from him to see that they had drawn very near the small pond island at the opposite end of the lake.  It was so small that no one owned it. It had been declared public land.  A small, permanent cabin remained on the island, along with a campfire pit, picnic table and benches and a supply of firewood.  Part of the fees
the Scrimshaw Lake Association collected from every landowner was used to maintain the island, among other things.  She and Tracy had spent many happy summer days playing on the island, after Daddy bought her the rowboat.  She grinned broadly, as Vidar gave her a hand getting out of the boat. 

“Oh, this is perfect!” she gushed.  “I haven’t been here in forever!”

Vidar gave her an odd look.  Liz was too happy to question him about it.  She skipped down the dock and raced up the rough path to the rustic little cabin that seemed to list slightly to one side as though the wind had blown too hard in that direction. 

Whi
te pines, scotch pines, birch, tamarack and cedar trees crowded the little island.  Most were mature, a few were in their last years of life.  The tallest tree of all was a massive scotch pine.  It stood at the crest of a slight hill, granite and pine needles surrounding its base like a royal cape.  Huge holes a foot tall and at least that deep had been burrowed into the tree about two thirds of the way up by a pileated woodpecker years ago.  Gallons of sap had leaked out of the holes, dripping down the rugged bark to feed the mice and other critters. She remembered hearing the Lake Association members argue for years about the need to bring the tree down before it fell down, yet here it remained, no worse for wear. 

Vidar joined her, then passed by her, leading to the sunny patch at the center of the island.  It was completely surrounded by trees, but wide enough that it caught a few hours of sunlight from
late morning to early afternoon before the shadows invaded. The grass grew long since no one bothered to cut it, although this early in the season it wasn’t even green yet.  Soft dead grass remained, a perfect cushion for the blanket Vidar now spread. 

Liz felt strangely shy as she drew near.  She knelt on one corner of the blanket, unsure what to do with her hands.  She had fantasized this moment most of her life, a romantic interlude with the most intriguing man she had ever met.  What if she said something really stupid, and broke the mood?  He was so much older than she, and experienced… how could she compete against the horde of women he was sure to have known already?  Liz was no longer a virgin, although her pathetically few liaisons with persons of the opposite sex had been nothing worth mentioning, let alone remembering. 

Vidar opened the picnic hamper and withdrew two wine glasses.  Moments later he filled them with a light, mildly sweet white wine.  He passed her a glass, then clinked the edge of the glasses together.  “To this moment,” he said smoothly, his voice deep and rich.  “To us.  May we never again be separated by misunderstandings or petty differences.  To you, my dear Beth.” He took a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving her face. 

Liz flushed, nibbling her lower lip.  “To us,” she repeated.  She took a big gulp, hoping the light wine would help her relax.
  Vidar’s smile was slow and sexy as he topped off her glass.  Then he brought out the meal – she had no idea how he’d managed to procure such a feast, but he produced a loaf a bread, a hunk of cheese, luscious red grapes and – a really special treat – two candy bars!  Liz laughed.  “Vidar, you thought of everything!”

“I hope so,
Beth.  I hope so,” he said.  He cut a piece of cheese and handed it to her, then cut one for himself.  Liz wondered if he even tasted it, his focus was so totally on her.  She might have felt intimidated by it, but the wine was definitely working.  She no longer felt the cool spring air or her own nervousness.  In fact, it was decidedly much warmer, all of a sudden.