Misty Lake: Book One in the Misty Lake Series (5 page)

“Oh, so the McCabe men are all single?” Hard to believe if they all looked like Jake, she thought.

“My brother Joe married his high school sweetheart, Karen, last year. Mom’s afraid to pester them so she asks the rest of us, every time she sees us, if we know what their plans are as far as children. She doesn’t seem to get the fact that I’m not about to ask my brother if he’s trying to make a baby,” Jake said with a baffled look.

Sam chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose that’s a subject that comes up too often between brothers.”

It was dark when they finished clearing the dishes and when Sam suddenly realized things were starting to feel far too comfortable. Trying to hide her sudden panic, she started to guide Jake to the front door when it seemed he was ready to head back to the sofa. “It’s getting late and I have kids coming tomorrow morning,” Sam began in a brisk tone.

Jake, surprised at the sudden change in Sam, raised a brow questioningly when she handed him his keys. “Sam, I wasn’t planning on moving in, I thought we were having an enjoyable evening.”

“We were. Now it’s over.” She didn’t enjoy being rude but needed to get him out. Nothing could happen between the two of them and she was determined to make that clear.

When he reached for his keys he grasped her wrist and was pleased at the heat he saw rise in her cheeks. He pulled her close and took a handful of her hair the way he had wanted to do since he first saw her that afternoon standing at her workbench. She gasped. He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “Oh, Ms. Taylor, it’s far from over.”

The desire to fall into his arms warred with the voice in her head that said run. She tried to pull back but Jake held on, his eyes darkening as he looked into hers. “Jake…” she protested, on a shaky breath.

He saw the determination, and fear, in her eyes. What was it about this woman that had him acting like a fool? He released her and ran his hand through his hair. Pulling a card from his wallet he slapped it on the counter. “Call me if there’s anything out of the ordinary. And I mean anything, Sam.” With that, he strode out of the door.

Sam closed the door softly then collapsed against it. Putting a hand against her cheek where he had touched, she allowed herself a minute to imagine. But only a minute. Because she wanted to run after him, she headed to the kitchen. Making dinner for Stu and Molly would eat up part of her night. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easy.

5

Jake twirled his pencil between his fingers and looked across his desk at his brother, Joe. “I still don’t know the real reason for your visit,” and glancing at his watch, added “and before eight o’clock? It seems a school teacher on summer vacation wouldn’t need to be bothering me this early.” He heard the stiffness in his voice but seemed unable to stop it.

“Mom tells me you’re ‘edgy’, says she doesn’t know why, tells me to check up on you, so here I am. You know how Mom works.”

“I’m not edgy. Everything’s fine,” Jake snapped but he knew he wasn’t fooling Joe any more than he was fooling himself. He hadn’t heard from Sam in three days and it was eating at him. He’d been tempted to drive out to check on her but was afraid without a reason she would likely be nothing more than annoyed.

“Tough case you’re working on?” Joe asked, trying to read the look on his brother’s face.

“Nah, it’s nothing. Mom’s overreacting. She’s done that once or twice before, you know,” Jake scowled.

Before Joe could answer, Marc, Jake’s youngest deputy, stuck his head in the door. “Haven’t been able to find out anything about that trouble out at Ms. Taylor’s, Sheriff.” Then, noticing Joe, added “Sorry, didn’t know you had company.”

“It’s ok, Marc. Joe’s not company, Joe’s a pain in the ass. So, no word on anyone raising hell at the lake?”

“Nope, Sheriff, no one’s doing any talking.”

“Thanks, Marc, that’s about what I expected.”

When Marc left, Joe shot a questioning look at his brother. “What’s going on out at the lake?”

“Just some vandalism, thought it might be some kids seeing that they’re on vacation, but we usually hear about it within a couple days if it’s some of the local kids. They like to talk about what they’ve done.”

Joe gave a knowing nod. “I remember bragging about a few stupid things we did as kids. Seems that half the fun is telling your buddies about it after the fact.”

As Jake shook his head at the memories, Joe added, “And about this Ms. Taylor? I take it she’s the new owner of the Taylor place everyone’s been so curious about. What’s her story?”

Jake bristled at his brother’s casual attitude and regretted it when his brother noticed his reaction.

“Hmmm, maybe Mom’s radar isn’t so far off after all?”

Jake gave Joe a withering look. “Get off it, okay? She had some trouble out at her place, I went to check it out. It is my job, if you’ll recall.”

“Fine, fine, calm down,” Joe held up his hands.

Jake ran his hand across his eyes and ordered himself to do just that. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “She’s out there by herself, looks like someone was trying to spook her. She’s tough but she’s been through a lot. She needs a chance at a fresh start, not someone pulling crap like breaking windows and leaving dead animals on her doorstep.”

Joe studied his brother and was smart enough to hide his smirk. So, big brother’s taken with the new girl in town, he thought to himself. To Jake, he asked seriously, “Just the one incident? If it’s not kids, any ideas what’s going on?”

“A couple other things Sam, er, Ms. Taylor, doesn’t think are related but I’m not so sure. We’re checking into the kids from Project Strong Start. She’s working with some of them, teaching them woodworking.  We’ll see…”

Joe watched Jake stare off into space for a minute then shook his head, grinning. “Any plans for Saturday afternoon? Karen wants you to come out on the boat with us, says it’s been too long since we’ve seen you.”

“Saturday?” Jake considered and decided flying around the lake on Joe’s boat might be just what he needed to clear his head. “Saturday’s good. Tell Karen I’ll see her then…and if she wants to ditch you, that’s fine by me.”

Joe gave a whoop of laughter as he walked out of the office. “That’ll be the day, big brother, that’ll be the day.”

Sam breathed in the heady scent of pine and wildflowers as she headed to the shop to start her day. She loved the early mornings at the lake, the quiet that was so different from her mornings in Chicago. Here there was no sound of traffic racing on the nearby highway. The birds greeted her with their cheerful chirping as the breeze tickled the leaves. Occasionally, she would hear the lonely call of a loon though she hadn’t spotted one of the birds yet.

The week was flying by with the camp kids filling her mornings and her own projects keeping her busy well into the evening. She liked it that way. The busier she was, the less time she had to think. Because when she had time to think, her thoughts turned to a certain sheriff and she was determined not to let that happen.

Sam threw an old tennis ball for Rigi as they made their way through the yard. She had been a little apprehensive every morning as they approached the shop, not able to get Monday’s events completely out of her mind. However, there hadn’t been any more trouble and she was trying mightily to convince herself it was a one-time thing.

This morning Sam wanted to finish the cabinet doors before the kids arrived. She was pleased with the way the doors had turned out and the fact that they looked like the originals. That was her goal when doing restoration work. A final coat of varnish this morning and she could install the doors that afternoon. Sam smiled. Completing a project, no matter the size, was incredibly rewarding.

As she walked through the main room to the smaller room in her workshop, she wondered again at the time her grandfather must have put into the planning of the place. Dividing the workshop into two separate rooms meant a designated spot for staining and varnishing and no time lost when a piece was drying. In the small Chicago shop, there was mandatory down time when something was in the finishing stages, as it wouldn’t do to be cutting or sanding one piece while another was drying. Wet varnish and sawdust simply don’t mix. 

And remodeling the cabin’s small bathroom was genius, too. No more trips back and forth to the house when she was in the middle of something. Being able to rinse brushes and rags without having to drag them to the house or the hose was incredibly convenient. She sighed and once again started to wonder about her grandfather’s motive for keeping everything a secret.

Nope, she told herself, not this morning. She wasn’t going to get caught up in whys and what ifs…she’d already spent too much time thinking on it without any answers and it wasn’t getting her anywhere.

As she slowly and carefully applied the final touches, she heard the camp van. The kids’ projects were coming along well even if she did have to tell Jimmy every few minutes to slow down so he didn’t lose a finger and convince Mario he’d have plenty of use for the step stool he was working on.

As the kids filed in, she noticed Katie was more distracted than ever, sitting down at Zach’s spot instead of her own and staring out the window. Sam watched her for a moment then called, “Katie, will you come over here for a minute, please?”

Katie’s head snapped around and she looked up as if surprised to realize she was in the workshop. Her eyes flitted from one thing to the next as she made her way across the room.

“Katie, would you be willing to help me out with some staining today?” She needed some distance from the rest of the group, Sam decided, and distance from power tools that, if she remained so distracted, could be a real danger.

Katie nodded and mumbled, “Sure,” obviously not really caring what she did for the next three hours.

Sam led her into the adjacent room, gave her some boards along with a gallon of stain and a brush. “Put this jacket over your clothes, Katie, you don’t want to be covered in stain. Since you’re ahead of the other kids making step stools, I’d like to give them the chance to catch up today. And, I really need these boards stained so appreciate you helping me out.”

Katie nodded and Sam got her started on staining. Katie didn’t need to know the boards were scraps. “Is everything okay today?” Sam asked gently.

Katie was quiet for so long Sam thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she said softly, “I talked to my dad last night, he said he’s better and will be able to leave the hospital soon.”

“That’s wonderful news!”

“I don’t believe him, I think he’s just saying that so I don’t worry about him.” Her voice hitched and her eyes filled.

“Oh, honey,” Sam took her hand, “he wouldn’t lie to you. I’m sure he really is better.” Sam made a mental note to call the camp director and see if she could get any information, she would hate to be giving Katie false hope.

“Do you really think so?” Katie asked, and the desperation in her voice had Sam taking her into her arms.

“I do, I really do,” she soothed and stroked the girl’s hair. She had been cautioned about getting too close to the kids, told repeatedly that her job would be educating the kids on what she knew best, and leaving the emotional counseling to those trained to handle it. Well, warnings be damned. Katie needed her and Sam wasn’t about to turn her back.

She held her and reassured her until Katie seemed to relax and until the volume in the other room demanded her attention. Sam left Katie to the staining and went to manage the chaos in the adjoining room.

Jackson was busy measuring small strips of wood to form dividers. His jewelry box was going to be stunning. That was really the only word for it, Sam decided. Once he had decided to tackle the project, he threw himself into it and gave every detail his utmost attention.  He had modified the design slightly, saying his mom likes earrings more than bracelets so he wanted another drawer with small dividers to keep the earrings in pairs. When he asked about adding a darker wood to the oak he was using to offset the edges of the box, Sam had been thrilled and happily gave him some of the walnut she had been saving until a special project came along. This definitely qualified. The work he had done so far was outstanding.

Since Jackson was always careful and worked competently on his own, Sam often let him, guiding and suggesting when it seemed appropriate. Jimmy and Davis, on the other hand, were giving her a run for her money. Davis had a fondness for finding a loophole in most all the instructions she gave and managed to find ways to wreak havoc. Just yesterday he had taken the small electric drill and drilled a hole in one of Jimmy’s boards because, as Davis had succinctly explained, she had said ‘the drills can be used on the projects, only,’—her attempt to keep him from drilling holes in her workbenches—but hadn’t specified ‘on
your
projects only.’ Jimmy had been in a panic, certain his project was ruined, that there would never be time to fix it, and had tried his best to convince Sam she should let him drill a hole in Davis’ project as it was only fair. It took her the better part of an hour to diffuse the situation. Today the boys were on opposite sides of the room.

Zach was doing well with his table. It wasn’t an especially complicated design but it’s size made it a little more involved than the step stool while it was still far from the complexity of the jewelry box—a perfect fit for Zach. He was capable of doing the work, had a good touch with the tools, but lacked interest. Sam was concerned about Zach. He was quiet, frequently pulling out his cell phone when Sam, and the camp directors, had told the kids phones were allowed only during free time and only at camp. He would put it away when he saw Sam look, but several times she had seen him texting furiously under the table. Sam knew she wasn’t making much of an impact on him. She made her way to Zach, both to check on his progress and to try to see what he was crouching over that was so interesting.

“Hey, Zach, how’s the table coming,” Sam said as she came up behind him. Zach jumped, hurriedly shoving something into his pocket before turning to face her.

“What?” he almost shouted at Sam, his cheeks burning and his eyes unable to meet hers.

“What’s wrong, Zach?” Sam asked calmly even though it looked an awful lot like a knife he tried to hide from her.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Why does everyone always think something is wrong with me?” he shot back.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, Zach, I just wondered if something was bothering you. It doesn’t look like you’ve gotten much work done today,” she added, nodding toward the wood and tools lying untouched on the workbench.

“I…I just have a headache.”

Sam hesitated, wanting to try to get him to talk, but decided to let it go. She would ask about Zach, too, if she was able to speak with one of the camp leaders later. “Okay. If you don’t feel up to working today why don’t you go ahead and put your things away. It’s almost time for everyone to wrap up anyway.”

Zach mumbled something Sam didn’t catch and, holding his jacket close to his chest, began to clear his work area.

Later that afternoon, long after the kids were gone and she had finished putting the new doors on the cabinet and had delivered it to Kathleen’s mother-in-law, Sam grabbed a pencil and paper and decided it was time to tackle a project she had dreamed of for years. Designing and building a china hutch may seem silly, she didn’t even have any china, but it was something she needed to do.

When Sam was just a child, her grandfather had often told her grandmother he was going to build her the finest china cabinet she had ever seen. Sam could remember her grandmother laughing, saying, ‘That will be the day!’ Her grandmother had had a beautiful set of china, stashed away in boxes and brought out only on very special occasions. Sam had always thought that was a waste but her grandmother had insisted it was too special to risk.