Summer In Iron Springs (2 page)

             
Phoebe took a long look around and felt somewhat overwhelmed by the idea of having to work in the enormous orchard. “Wait, do I have to start work right now?” Phoebe looked at Norm. “I mean, I’m not exactly dressed for it.”

             
Norm let out a loud bellow. “No, little lady. You can take a day or two to settle in. I’ll just be a minute.” He gave the gearshift a forceful shove. “Be back in two shakes. Don’t go nowhere.” He opened the door and stepped out onto the dirt road.

Phoebe waited for him to walk across the narrow dirt road before she slunk into the seat and plunked her feet on the dashboard. A shiny brass keychain in the shape of a cowboy boot dangled from the ignition. “Shows how smart he is,” she said, surprised Norm would trust a juvenile delinquent with the keys to his truck. She quickly became too warm
and rolled the window back down. In moments, the cab was overflowing with the sweet scent of apples and the universal smell of summer. Phoebe rested her head on the seat and inhaled the light, fresh fragrance. Even though Washington was known for its apple orchards, this was the first time she’d ever actually been to one. Other than hanging out at malls and some of the outdoor markets, Phoebe considered herself more of an indoor girl. Visiting an apple orchard wasn’t exactly Phoebe’s idea of a good time.

She stared past the orchard at the clear blue sky hanging high above the mountain peaks. The clusters of pine trees, draped in white, were banded together in a way that made Phoebe think they looked like they were keeping each other warm. It was a beautiful sight and Phoebe
felt an urge to capture the scene on canvas. The mountains in Washington were beautiful—some of the most spectacular anywhere. But, there was something different about the scenery in Iron Springs. It was beautiful on a whole different level. She retrieved her sketchpad and the graphite pencil she never went anywhere without and began to draw an outline of the mountainside.

I bet my mother loved it here,
Phoebe thought as she cast her eyes on the highest mountain peak
.
It was the first time in years that Bessie had found her way into Phoebe’s mind. Her thoughts didn’t usually drift into the sentimental without her permission and she didn’t like that they were now. When she was a small child, her mother had always been present in her thoughts. Over time, recollections of Bessie faded and eventually Phoebe tucked the memories away in the
too-painful-to-think-about
files of her subconscious. The handful of pictures she’d studied—even memorized down to the tiniest detail—had been put away for years and so had all of her mother’s possessions. There was nothing in her immediate surroundings that would conjure up thoughts of Bessie—at least not in Seattle. Iron Springs was already proving to be a completely different story.

Gazing at the scenic mountainside, Phoebe knew, in a way that felt almost instinctive, that her mother’s home town was a special place. She closed her eyes and focused
as hard as she could—the way she used to do when she was a child—until Bessie’s dark brown eyes came into view. She could see her mother’s beautiful face and long auburn hair. She pictured her mother reaching out to her, wanting to take hold of her hand. Phoebe wanted, more than anything, to touch her mother’s hand, to hold it for just a moment. But, as it always had, the picture faded away into nothing. A tear rolled down Phoebe’s cheek and she wiped it away.

She opened her eyes
, blew out a long slow breath and then adjusted the rearview mirror to check her reflection. Red speckles had surfaced on her cheeks so she rubbed the palms of her hands over her face a few times to force them away. This is not the time to turn into a crybaby, she thought to herself. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. If she allowed the flood gates that held back her emotions to open, she was certain they’d never close again.

She
had gotten so caught up in her thoughts that she wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Norm emerged from the grove. He was followed by a kid who looked about her age—maybe a year or two older. The kid was tall and muscular and handsome, really handsome. She rubbed her hands over her cheeks again and blinked several times to get rid of any lingering emotions. The last thing she needed was Norm and what’s-his-name feeling sorry for her. Then she checked herself in the mirror again. Her face was red and splotchy, but there was nothing she could do about that.

The boy
headed toward the truck while Norm followed a ways behind. When he passed by her window, his eyes met hers for a brief moment and her face flushed hot. He flashed a broad smile and she smiled back before shifting her gaze to her lap. He walked to the back of the truck and dropped the long metal pipes he’d been carrying in the bed.

“Hey, how’s it going?” the boy said,
stopping for a moment at the passenger door.

Phoebe looked at the boy and smiled. “Can’t remember the last time I had this much fun,” she said
before mentally kicking herself for the lame response. “I mean . . . uh, you know, being here . . . not that this isn’t fun but . . .”

The boy laughed and his blue eyes lit up. “It’s okay, I know what you mean. This isn’t exactly party central.” He glanced over his shoulder at Norm who was walking toward the truck. “I
better get back to work.” His eyes studied hers for a long moment and the butterflies that seemed to live in her stomach awoke and started to dance. “Maybe I’ll see you later.” He flashed a smile before walking away.

Phoebe removed
the ponytail and smoothed her hair as she watched the boy head back into the grove of trees. If she had known she’d be meeting a hot boy today, she would have taken more time on her appearance.

After giving the kid some instructions, Norm patted him on the back and headed toward the truck
.

“All right, little lady, let’s get you delivered to your aunt’s.” The
truck’s cab wobbled when Norm plopped his fat bottom in the driver’s seat. “I’m sure Anna’s anxious to see you.” He pulled the truck onto the highway while tuning the radio dial to yet another country music station.

Awesome
.

Norm went off on a long explanation about working in an apple orchard and how important it was to make sure every tree was irrigated properly.
As he rambled on, he removed both hands from the steering wheel, interlocked his fingers above his head and let out a loud yawn. “That there’s the town hall,” he said when they entered the more populated part of Iron Springs. “And over there, over there’s the school house.” He pointed toward a large red building that resembled an old barn. “And that’s the fire station; it’s a national landmark, been there over a hundred years.”

The buildings were all either really old or they were built to
appear that way. Looking at them, Phoebe felt like she had taken a trip back in time. She didn’t know a place like Iron Springs actually existed outside the movies.

Norm stifled a
nother yawn and his voice droned on. “To your right is the library. Back in the day, it was a tavern . . . a saloon . . . a, uh. . .” He raised his eyebrows at Phoebe.

“I know what a tavern is.” Phoebe glanced out the window and rolled her eyes.
                                         

“That’s the community center. That’s where all the kids hang out.” He directed his eyes toward a large brick building adjacent to a park. “I suppose you know your mom taught art classes there.”

              “She did?” Phoebe couldn’t believe her ears. She tucked her feet up beneath her and turned to face Norm. “I mean . . . my mother was an artist?” No one had ever spoken to her so openly about her mother. Not even her father; well, especially not her father.

             
“Oh, heavens yes,” Norm said, nodding his head and smiling. “Didn’t you know that?”

             
Phoebe shook her head, saddened by what she didn’t know. How could she not have known her mother had been an artist? Had she ever asked her father? Of course she hadn’t. He had made it clear years ago that the subject of her mother was off-limits. But, why hadn’t she pushed the issue? If she had, he would have told her about Bessie. Was it possible that she had intentionally avoided the subject? A pain shot through her heart as she realized that she and her father had spent the past thirteen years pretending Bessie never existed.

             
There was a long moment of subdued silence before Norm spoke again. “Well, I’m not an authority and that’s for sure. But in my opinion, Bessie was one of the most talented artists ever born on God’s green earth.”

             
Phoebe didn’t trust her voice to respond so she gave Norm a half-smile before returning her attention to the passing scenery. How could Norm—someone she’d met little more than an hour ago—know more about her mother than she did? Tears tumbled down her cheeks and she wiped them away.

             
“Oh, little lady,” Norm said, glancing sympathetically at her. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

             
Phoebe sniffled and wiped her eyes. She couldn’t bear to have Norm feeling sorry for her. She felt stupid for letting herself get so emotional in front of him. She blinked hard and forced away the emotions that seemed determined to find a way of escaping her body. “So, what did Anna tell you about me?” Phoebe’s voice cracked and she hoped Norm hadn’t noticed.

Norm
gave her a sympathetic smile. “She told me to pick you up at the airport. She’d a done it herself, but she had a town council meeting she couldn’t get out of. She asked me to apologize for her.”

“Did she tell you I was being forced to come here against my will?”

Norm removed his dirty cowboy hat and set it on the seat beside him. “Nope.” He ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

             
Phoebe studied Norm’s round face for a long moment. Was he telling the truth? Would Anna really send him to pick her up from the airport without giving her all the juicy details about her brush with the law?

“That’s kind of hard to believe. I mean she had to have told you something.”

Norm rolled down his window and waved at a passing motorist. “Believe what you like, little lady. I work for Anna. If she says jump, I ask how high. That’s how it works.” He put his hat back on and checked himself in the rear view mirror. He rested both hands on the steering wheel and let out another loud yawn. “She said to pick you up; that’s all. Like I said, you can tell me if you want.”

Phoebe shook her head and
stared out the window.

Without skipping a beat Norm continued on with his sight-seeing tour. “Over that way is Park Street. That’s where the tourists go… lots of tourists here in the winter time. There’s
shops, restaurants, skiing.” Norm pointed toward the ski slopes that had been carved into the mountainside. “Do you ski?”

“No.” Phoebe
studied the mountains that towered over the touristy shopping district. It was like a picture from a postcard.

“Well, I’m sure you like to shop little lady. Course, I stay away from that part of town—too high-falutin’ for me.” He let out a loud chuckle. “But you can easily walk there from
Anna’s house. There’s more shops than you can shake a stick at.”

Shopping? Since her father refused to give her any money she probably wouldn’t be doing any shopping and since shopping was one of the things she was looking forward to doing in New York, the dreadful thought added one more entry to her ever growing list of cons.

Norm exited the paved road and headed down a narrow dirt lane where he slowed to a stop after angling the truck into an open space beside a much newer, much shinier, red truck. “Here we are!” he announced. “Your summer home, little lady.”

Phoebe
glanced out the window and studied the log cabin. It was much bigger than she’d imagined it would be. The lower section was built of flat, neutral colored stones in different shapes and sizes and the upper section was constructed of large brown logs with giant wooden pillars supporting the second story’s wrap-around porch.

Her eyes were drawn to a
huge window that revealed the over-sized blades of a ceiling fan whirling in circles. She studied them for a long moment before letting out a long sigh and opening the truck door.

“I’ll grab your bags; you head on inside.”

Phoebe swallowed hard to clear the lump in her throat. “I can get my own bags.” Her voice quivered, and Norm gave her a sympathetic glance.

“Su
it yourself,” Norm said.

Phoebe stepped out of the truck just as
Anna Walker, an attractive, slender woman in snug blue jeans, a western style shirt, and leather cowboy boots walked out the front door. She was followed by a golden retriever who limped slowly across the large wooden porch. Phoebe recognized her aunt from photographs but she had no memory of ever having met the woman.

Norm grinned as he passed
Anna on the porch steps. “She’s a pistol.”

Anna
gave Norm a nod and made her way down the stairs. She approached Phoebe and wrapped her arms around her. “What a beautiful young lady you’ve become,” she said, holding Phoebe in a long embrace. Then, pulling back slightly, she stared into Phoebe’s chocolate brown eyes, cradled her cheeks in the palms of her hands and smiled. “You look so much like Bessie.” Anna’s voice cracked and her eyes became moist.