The Lure of Love (2 page)

Jamie nodded.
“You’re right. His representative asked me to meet with him while he’s here.
Apparently he has the final say on locations.”

Brooke looked
out over the lake. “What more could he ask for? This is so beautiful.”

“Let’s hope
he agrees.” Jamie turned to Leeza. “Any problems in the kitchen I should know
about?”

Leeza shook
her head. “Just the usual. College kids that come for the summer and are
shocked when they find out they actually have to work.” She shrugged. “Nothing
new. But I’d better get back there now.” She rose and stretched. “See you guys
later.” She walked briskly in the direction of the kitchen.

Jamie looked
at her watch and stood up as well. “Time I put on my taxi driver hat. I hope
those two men I dropped off this morning have had some luck. They had enough
gear to catch every rainbow in the lake.”

Brooke stood
and walked over to the window. Not for the first time Jamie wondered why the
other woman hadn’t taken a more high profile job. With her experience, looks and
innate grace, she could work anywhere she chose. “Aren’t you afraid, flying all
over the north in that thing?” She was looking toward the special dock a
hundred yards away where Jamie’s favourite form of transportation rocked gently
in the wake of a passing boat.

“Not in the
least. What frightens me is driving on the highway.” Jamie motioned toward the
Beaver. “When I’m flying, I don’t have to deal with kamikaze drivers.”

Brooke looked
at the sky to the north. “I suppose so. By the way, I checked the weather
earlier and we’re supposed to have a storm later on.”

People had
started to wander toward the dining room for lunch and Brooke looked at her
boss. “Have you eaten anything today?”

Jamie thought
for a moment. “I had a piece of toast this morning.” She headed for the door.

Brooke shook
her head, walked to the reception desk and grabbed an apple from the basket.
“Here, take this with you at least.” She tossed it to Jamie.

“Thanks.”
Jamie caught it and ran down the steps. Goldie scrambled to her feet and
followed, tail wagging in anticipation of the flight to come. Brooke sighed and
returned to her office.

Craig Hansen
left the town behind and drove back toward Long Lake. He’d had a pleasant lunch
on the outside terrace of a small restaurant and spent some time in the town’s
museum, but he was ready to get settled in and relax. He chuckled at the
direction of his thoughts. When compared with his usual schedule, this entire
day so far had been one big relax.

He turned in
at the sign pointing to Long Lake Fishing Resort. A simple name, and he liked
it. Many of these places spent too much time focusing on new age names, and not
enough on their primary purpose…a comfortable bed, a good meal and some great
fishing. He’d heard good things about Long Lake and hoped he wouldn’t be
disappointed.

His car
rumbled over a cattle guard and he paused to get a sense of where he was.

By his
estimate, the main road was offset from the lake by about a quarter of a mile,
perhaps a bit more. He’d checked it out on Google Earth and had noticed the
irregular shoreline as well as several streams leading into the lake from the
east. He’d also noted that development was sparse along the shore; clusters of
buildings separated by stretches of unoccupied land.

From here the
land sloped gently toward the lake. This particular area was sparsely treed and
offered enticing glimpses of the lake in the distance. He turned the key in the
ignition and drove slowly. Grasshoppers jumped out of the way as he passed, and
in the heat of the afternoon the pungent scent of fir trees filled the air like
sweet perfume.

He inhaled
deeply and relaxed for the first time in days. He’d been working almost
non-stop for the last two years and he needed this break. He also needed a
break from his publicist. Dating her a few months ago had been a huge mistake.
He couldn’t seem to make her understand that there was never going to be
anything between them; the woman was becoming a real problem.

The Lodge
buildings came into view and he slowed again, looking them over. The main
building was large and could only be described as rambling. It looked as though
it had been a large country home at one time but the original outlines of the
building were hard to discern among all of the add-ons over the years. The
irregular additions gave it a casual, comfortable feel, like an older woman
surrounded by her grandchildren.

In front of
the main building, a broad lawn sloped gently down toward the water. Behind the
lodge, tucked in among some fir trees, three small cottages occupied higher
ground. There was a permanent air about them and he wondered if the owner lived
in one of them. Directly to his left were two newer buildings. Two story units,
they were situated close enough to the main Lodge to be easily accessible. Guests
in these accommodations could enjoy the view out over the lake and he noted
that both buildings offered wide balconies with comfortable chairs. Were there
actually people who came here to look at the lake? He supposed it was possible.

The Lodge
obviously encouraged children. A small playground was set up off to the left, in
sight of the two-story units. A string of floats marked off an area of the
beach where children could play safely away from boat traffic. Directly in
front of the lodge, a dock stretched out into the water, with several smaller
docks shooting off to the sides like branches of a tree. About a dozen boats
were tied up snugly, out of use in the heat of the afternoon when few fish
would take a fly, or any bait for that matter.

A smaller
dock sat off to the left. It was empty and his gaze went beyond, to a stand of
trees near the water’s edge. Campsites nestled in among the trees and he found
himself wishing he’d brought his camping gear. These were the most perfectly
sited campsites he’d ever seen, at least in a commercial setting. A sprawling
wooden building housed the office and a good-sized store. The front porch of
the store was lined with flower boxes and appeared to be a spot for children to
gather and eat ice cream. A cement block addition on the rear housed laundry
and shower facilities. Memories of a happier time flooded over him, but he
pushed them down and pulled into a parking spot beside the lodge.

He walked up
a set of broad steps and paused on the verandah. It was like something out of
another time, with an eclectic mix of chairs pulled up in conversational groupings.
Maybe he’d been wrong about people passing quiet time overlooking the water.
Two men who looked like they might be father and son were sitting quietly with
a drink. Suddenly he wasn’t so eager to get to his room and unpack.

He walked
into a large, open great room. An informal area served as reception and he was
about to ring a bell when a tall young woman appeared from a back room. “Good
afternoon sir. Welcome to Long Lake Fishing Lodge.” Her smile was warm.

“Good
afternoon. I’d like to check in please. My name is Craig Hansen.”

“Yes Mr.
Hansen, we’ve been expecting you.” She placed a registration card in front of
him and he signed. “If you’ll be dining with us tonight I’d be happy to make a
reservation for you.”

“Would it be
all right if I play that by ear? I’ve just had lunch in town.”

“Certainly
sir. You can call from your room or come back to see me and I’ll be happy to
take care of it.”

“Thank you.
You know, when I first drove in all I could think about was getting to my room
and unpacking, but I’ve changed my mind. Could you have someone bring me a beer
out on the verandah?”

She glanced
toward the outside. “Inviting, isn’t it. Any particular kind of beer?”

“I prefer Heineken
but anything would be good.” He glanced at her name tag. “Thank you, Brooke.”

He sauntered outside
and chose a high backed rocking chair. Most of the furniture was large and he
gave silent thanks that he’d found something to accommodate his six foot four
inch frame.

A beer was
placed on the low table beside his chair. He thanked the server and poured. Clouds
threatened the sun and a breeze had kicked up but he didn’t care; if this
wasn’t heaven, it was close. He took a long, cold swallow and thought back on
what he knew about the Lodge.

There was no
lack of information about the Lodge and fishing in the area, but very little
about the people behind the operation. His assistant had researched it for him
and had learned that Jamie Nicholson inherited the Lodge at the age of eighteen
when his parents died in a train accident while travelling in Asia. He’d
managed with some administrative help until the age of twenty one and had been
running it alone ever since. Doing a good job too, until the latest economic
downturn reduced the portfolios of many of the Lodge’s regular clients.

He checked
out the building without being too obvious. They appeared to have a good
maintenance crew and for some reason that pleased him. Too many family
businesses were falling into disrepair.

He was taking
his second swallow of beer when the sound of a small aircraft broke into his
thoughts. He rose, went to the railing and looked into the sky. It must be
circling because it was out of sight but he could hear it coming around.

There it was!
Coming in from the south end of the lake, just over the treetops. The pilot
held the aircraft about thirty feet above the water and he sensed that he was
about to touch down when a gust of wind caught one wingtip. It dipped to one
side for a fraction of a second before the pilot regained control and brought
it down for a smooth landing in front of the Lodge.

For the
second time today he found that he’d been holding his breath. Shaken, he went
back to his chair and watched the Beaver taxi up to the small dock.

The door
opened on the pilot’s side and a figure emerged, stepped lightly down onto the
float and hopped onto the deck, one hand on the wing strut. It was the woman
from this morning; the one with the bear spray. A gust of wind caught her long
sun-streaked hair and she brushed it back from her face. He could see the
laughter in her eyes from here, and for an almost uncontrollable moment he
wanted to be down there on the deck with her, sharing her enthusiasm. A dog
followed her out of the cockpit and onto the deck, its coat a pale golden
colour in the afternoon sun.

Two men,
obviously fishermen, emerged through the passenger door. They looked toward the
two-storey buildings and held up their catch. Silvery scales glistened in the
sunlight and the men exchanged a few words with the woman, shook her hand and
then trudged off, proudly showing their catch to several children who came
running from the beach. He wondered idly if the chef would be asked to cook
fish tonight, then laughed to himself. It was probably a rarity when the chef
wasn’t
asked to cook fish.

He watched
the woman tie down the Beaver. The dog had trotted to the shore and was lapping
up lake water. She patted the wing of the aircraft the way one would stroke a favourite
pet and walked toward the lodge, long legs encased in slim, faded jeans.

He set down
the beer bottle, surprised to see that it was empty. He must have finished it
while watching her. As she ran up the steps his feet moved forward of their own
accord and he extended his hand. “Hi, that was quite a landing.”
What was he
doing?

She stopped
in mid-stride and turned to look at him. Something flared behind her eyes for a
fraction of a second and he wondered if she recognized him. Another gust of
wind caught her hair and she tucked it impatiently behind her ear. She wore no
makeup and appeared to be free of artifice of any kind. Hazel eyes that were
predominantly green smiled at him and all rational thought fled from his mind.

“Thanks. It
was a bit breezy out there.” She extended her hand. “Welcome to Long Lake. I’m
Jamie Nicholson.”

He shook her
hand. It was surprisingly small and feminine. “
You’re
Jamie Nicholson?”

She laughed.
“You were expecting a man?”

He nodded.

“Happens a
lot. And you are?”

“Craig
Hansen. I just checked in.”

Now he could
see the recognition in her eyes. “Ah, Mr. Hansen.” She gestured back toward the
Beaver. “I hope that little flying exhibition hasn’t put you off. I can fly you
into a lot of lovely spots that aren’t accessible by road.”

He sucked in
a breath of air and looked at the floatplane. “I don’t know…”

She picked up
on his ambivalence. “You don’t have to decide now, but I’ll make myself
available any time you’d like to go out.”

She made a
move toward the inside of the lodge, but he didn’t want her to go. “Do you have
time for a beer?” He motioned to the empty bottle. “I was just about to have
another one.”

“I’m afraid I
can’t.” She took a quick look inside the lodge. “Looks like all the check-ins
arrived at once today. I should help Brooke.”

“What about
dinner? Surely you take time for dinner.”

A smile lit
up her face. “That’s a great idea. Let’s meet in the dining room at six, shall
we?”

“It’s a
date.” Had he really said that? He was acting like a clumsy teenager. Normally
he ate much later and he wasn’t the slightest bit hungry but it didn’t matter.
He watched her walk into the great room of the lodge and for the first time in
two years he thought that life might be worth living after all.

* * *

Jamie looked
at Brooke as the last of the guests drifted away. “They seem like a good bunch”
she said, “although we might have to keep an eye on that older gentleman and
his wife.”

Brooke
nodded. “I thought so too. Serious drinkers, if I’m not mistaken.”

Jamie sorted
through the registration cards. “I see Billy’s here. How was he?”