Retreat (31 page)

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Authors: Liv James

BOOK: Retreat
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“Kick it to MomMom!” she called after her.

    
“K!” the little girl said.

    
Clara followed Elizabeth over to where they were standing.
Rebecca had left her spot on the porch and was perched up next to Jon, nearly
touching him as she stood beside him.

    
“Hey,” Clara said to him, trying to ignore
Rebecca’s smug grin.

    
“Hey yourself,” he replied, stepping away
from Rebecca and walking toward her. “Want to get some lunch?”

    
“Sure,” Clara said. “They’re setting up
some kind of picnic over at Slippery
Falls. It should be ready
in twenty minutes or so.”

    
“I had something else in mind,” Jon said, a
smile reaching his eyes. “Care to join me? I’m sure it won’t be as festive as
the gathering over at the men’s cabin but I can promise you decent food.”

    
She looked at him, then glanced at Josie
who was smiling broadly behind him, nodding and gesturing with her hand to push
Clara along.

    
“Sure,” Clara said. “That sounds great.”

    
“Come on, Rebecca,” Josie said, bending
down to pick up Elizabeth.
“Let’s go see what those afternoon agendas say.”

    
Jon held out a hand to Clara. She looked at
it.

    
“You can hold my hand,” he said. “I promise
I won’t ask you for anything else during lunch.”

    
She reached out and took it. He looked
ahead and smiled, satisfied.

    
They headed down the path they’d taken the
night before toward the tent campers. In the daylight she realized what a
gorgeous trail they’d followed, with a patch of lilac bushes bursting with pink
blooms, and bunches of wildflowers reaching out onto the path from beneath tall
leafy trees. She took a deep breath of fresh air.

    
When they reached the campsite Clara was
surprised to see a white rental car parked next to the tent.

    
“Where did that come from?” she asked.

    
“I rented it to drive down from the
airport. I tried to talk Marcy into letting me rent a Cessna to fly into the
airstrip here at the park but she wouldn’t hear of it. She doesn’t trust my
flying apparently.”

    
“Small planes can be intimidating,
especially if you’ve never been in one before,” Clara reasoned. “Was the car
here last night? I didn’t notice it.”

    
“No, it wasn’t here. I had it parked up in
the main lot.” He walked over to the trunk and unlocked it. He pulled out a
large blue-and-white cooler and a grocery bag.

    
“What’s all this?” she asked.

    
“This is lunch. I needed to make some calls
this morning so I drove down to Valleyview to get some reception. There was a
little grocery store there so I picked up a few things. It’s nothing fancy,
trust me.”

    
“I’m so hungry I don’t care what it is,”
she said, reaching into the grocery bag and pulling out a red-and-white checked
vinyl tablecloth that had little black ants marching away with picnic food.
“Cute,” she said.

    
“Would you rather eat on the dirty picnic
table?” he asked.

    
“No,” she said as she unfolded the
tablecloth and fanned it out onto the table. She could smell the fresh vinyl.
“I’m just surprised you thought to buy this.”

    
“Marcy was with me. She insisted.”

    
Clara smiled to herself. That sounded like
Marcy.

    
Jon pulled lunchmeat, cheese and two beers
out of the cooler. Clara found Kaiser rolls, mustard, potato chips and napkins
in the bag. She set to making the sandwiches.

    
“Hey, I invited you to lunch,” Jon said,
reaching out to take the rolls from her. “I can make sandwiches.”

    
“That’s okay,” she said, smiling. “I’m so
grateful to you for taking me away from Karen for this lunch hour that I’m more
than willing to make you lunch. Plus, you brought beer which makes me want to
kiss you.”

    
“If I knew that was all it took I would
have bought a whole case,” he said.

    
She laughed. “You know what I mean.”

    
He didn’t say anything but took a seat
across from her and watched her put the sandwiches together.
 
She opened a napkin for each of them and
placed the sandwich and a pile of chips on each one. She sat across from him.

    
“So that was Rebecca’s daughter you were
playing with?” he asked as he started to eat.

    
“Yes. Her name is Elizabeth,” Clara said.

    
“She’s adorable. She really seems to like
you.” He was looking at her oddly, as if he’d never thought of her playing with
a child before. She wasn’t sure what to make of his expression.

    
Clara didn’t say anything. She took a bite of
her sandwich instead. “It’s good,” she said between bites.

    
“I’m glad you approve,” he said, smiling at
her from across the table. “It’s amazing the things you remember. I was in that
grocery store and your tastes came back to me. I knew exactly what to buy.”

    
“We spent a lot of time together,” she
said. “That’s only natural, I guess.”

    
“It’s more than that,” he said, but didn’t
explain. He stared at her as he finished his sandwich and reached for his beer.
She smiled a little uncomfortably at his intent gaze and worked on finishing
off her own lunch. She could feel the tension between them, the knowledge that
they were holding back from each other but that they’d only be able to hold out
so long if they continued to be near each other.

    
When they finished eating, Jon cracked open
another beer for each of them. The day was growing warm, but was comfortable in
the shaded campsite. Jon sat back down across from Clara at the picnic table.

    
“What’s the game plan for this afternoon?”
he asked.

    
“I don’t know,” Clara said, relieved that
he’d started talking again. “There was an agenda back at the cabin but I didn’t
get a chance to go in and look at it. I’m sure it will be some sort of group
psychology lesson like this morning.”

    
“Why don’t you skip it and hang out with me
instead?” he asked.

    
Tempting, she thought. She changed the
subject.

    
“Where is Marcy anyway?” Clara asked,
realizing that she hadn’t seen her since last night on the porch. She felt bad
that she’d come all this way and they hadn’t even had a chance to talk.

    
“She’s working,” Jon said. “She found a
library in Valleyview with internet access and decided to stay there to get
some work done. She’s in the middle of a big project for Freedman. She probably
shouldn’t have come at all but she was worried about you. She wanted to see for
herself that you were okay.”

    
“Is she coming back?” Clara asked.

    
“I need to go pick her up at
6:00
when the library closes. She’ll
be back for dinner. She said she wants to meet the men on your dad’s team.”

    
Clara smiled. That sounded like Marcy, too.

    
“Good. I’m looking forward to talking to
her,” Clara said.

    
She hesitated for a moment, thought the
better of it, then jumped in: “So what do you have in mind that could possibly
be better than what Karen has planned for us?”

    
“A little fishing trip over at the lake,”
he said, obviously pleased that she’d returned to his offer. “I have a couple
of poles and everything else we need set up over there. What do you say?”

    
“Fishing? It’s been a while since I’ve been
fishing,” she said, smiling. “In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever actually been
fishing.”

    
“You could learn something new, then,” Jon
said, pulling himself up from the table. “Isn’t that what this retreat is
supposed to be about?”

    
“Anything’s better than an afternoon with
Karen,” Clara admitted. “Who knows what she has planned for us. Josie didn’t
seem to have any problem with me skipping lunch to come out here with you, so
why not?”

    
“Okay, finish your beer and we’ll head
out.”
 

    
Clara worked on her beer while Jon gathered
the trash and took it to the large blue trash bin up by the washhouses. He had
to lift a large rock off the top of the bin before he threw in the food. When
he came back he grabbed his backpack and tucked the last two beers into it,
along with an ice pack from the cooler, two beach towels and his wallet.

    
They walked out of the tent area and down a
small embankment to the park’s main road. They hiked along the road for nearly
a mile before Jon veered left onto a narrow path marked with a diamond trailhead.

    
“Where does this go?” Clara asked. She was
having trouble getting her bearings. The map Karen gave them was hard to follow
and each area seemed to have multiple entrances and exits, which made it easy
to get turned around.

    
“This is a shortcut to the lake,” he said.

    
“I should have brought a swim suit,” Clara
said. “I didn’t even think of it.”

    
“The water’s still pretty cold from the
winter thaw,” Jon said. “I talked to one of the rangers when I was reserving
the campsite and he told me the lake doesn’t warm up enough for swimming until
late June.”

    
That didn’t seem to affect the gaggle of
teenagers that she could hear out on the water even before they reached the
lake. Their yells and laughs were punctuated by waves of music. It was too
faint to make out the tune.

    
Before long the path opened up onto the
wide, blue lake. A series of small islands jutted out in the middle, with shady
coves that were mostly occupied by fisherman in row boats. There was a manmade
beach area, where the teens were, and a section of the lake roped off with
large buoys for swimming. At the top of the beach there was a walk-up snack bar
and a bathhouse. The music was emanating from large bullhorn-style speakers
suspended from the snack bar’s roof.

    
They kept walking until they came to a
white clapboard shack hidden away beyond the snack bar. On the other side of
the shack kayaks and boats were lined up in rows, upside down on the ground.

    
“Kayak, canoe or row boat?” Jon asked her.

    
“You don’t seriously expect me to go out on
the water again with you?” Clara asked. “I thought we’d fish from the shore.”

    
“Canoe,” he told the attendant. He turned
to Clara. “That way I can keep my eye on you.”

    
She rolled her eyes and smiled at him,
wishing he was a little less charming. She prayed the weather held while they
were out on the lake. Fortunately, there were no signs of rain.

    
The attendant dragged the long canoe down
to the edge of the lake. Jon motioned for Clara to get in, then the two men
pushed the long vessel into the water. Jon jumped in on the far end, carefully
working his way up to the center of the canoe until he was facing Clara.

    
He picked up the oars and started rowing
out to the center of the lake.

    
The sun was hot without the protection of
the trees. Clara wished she’d worn a tank top instead of the long-sleeved
cotton shirt. At least it was protecting her from the sun, she thought. An
occasional cool breeze drifted along the calm surface, offering relief.

    
“Where are my oars?” Clara asked, glancing
behind her to see if they were there.

    
“You don’t have any,” Jon said.

    
“Why not? I could help you paddle.”

    
“I don’t need any help.”

    
“Right. You wouldn’t want it to look like
you needed a girl to help you get the canoe moving,” she said as she watched
droplets of clear water kick up from the oars and land on his arms, his muscles
tensing beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt.

    
“No,” he said, stopping for a moment and
looking at her. “That’s not it.”

    
“Then what is it?” she asked.

    
“I want you alone.”

    
A tiny surge of adrenaline whisked through
her at his admission.

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