Moving On (18 page)

She was happy to rest on the warm aluminum hull as she hoisted her body into the boat. Nick used the oar to push them deep enough to put the motor down. As soon as her feet landed in the boat, she took off her sweatshirt, knowing her lime green camisole covered her as much as any sun top would. She dried her feet and legs and pulled on her jeans.

By the time Nick would have had any time to pay attention to her, Anna had her jeans and life vest back on.

“You’re a fast dresser,” he commented.

“Ah, tips from a female action hero’s handbook?”

“Tips that keep the captain off-guard watching a pair of long legs, so he forgets what he’s doing and almost floods the engine.”

“Nick, you didn’t?” She felt a wide smile break over her face.

“No, but I should have. Then we could float around for awhile and keep the ducks company and get to know each other a bit better.”

“That’s sweet, but I thought today was a day for fishing, not talking.”

“All right. I have a bet with Herman that I’ll bring home the supper tonight and you won’t.” He grinned.

“He conned you,” she said. “I’m always good at something the first time around. You’ve heard of beginner’s luck.” She tipped her head back to see the clear blue sky and seagulls flying overhead. “Where’s the next secret spot, Captain Highliner?” she asked in a staged whisper. She couldn’t help herself. She felt as if more weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

A length of wavy hair clung to her cheek. Instead of automatically flicking it back, she pulled it straighter. It was longer. She even felt taller. She knew she was stronger. A few short weeks ago, she would not have allowed herself to be in a position that would require her to hoist herself into the boat and have a good time doing it.
Thank you, Uncle John and Murray
.

“What’s that little smile about?” Nick asked.

“I’m thinking about the chain of events that led me here.”

“You haven’t explained the relationship between you and John Good. What events led you into my life?”

“I’m almost ready for the story to come out, but not just yet.” She concentrated on her fishing rod.

“You know I’d never tell anyone. I’m not one of the town criers.”

“I know. But I want to feel ready and I don’t right now. Let’s not spoil the day. Let’s just be fishing buddies.” She looked straight in his deep brown eyes. “If you were out with another man, would you be asking him about his past?”

“Probably not. Guys don’t usually do that, except of course if it’s a close buddy.” He paused, then said, “You’re right. Let’s fish.”

Nodding, Anna pinched a minnow between her thumb and forefinger and plunged it onto the barbs of the hook. Then she flung her line into the water and concentrated on the bobber. She eyed Nick as he occupied himself with the engine for a few minutes. The action reminded her of her own hands when she built her miniature houses. Tinkering hands kept the mind focused on anything but the pain.

“Here, Mr. Fishie, here, Mr. Fishie,” she called.

“You’re different, Anna.”

“How’s that?” She glanced sideways quickly then back to her line.

“Well, I could say if another beautiful woman had me all to herself in a confined space, she might want me to put her minnow on her hook, lean into her, and help her cast the rod.”

“And would you like that kind of game?”

“Guys need that kind of attention every now and again to remind us we’re worth the effort.”

She stuck out her chest and batted her eyelashes. “Oh, I can’t touch anything as creepy as a frozen minnow, Mr. Big and Strong. Will you please, with your big strong fingers, put that tiny thing on this itsy-bitsy hook?” She formed a whine, then tilted her head curiously. “Something like that?”

He grimaced. “No, you can give that up—”

“Nick. Nick, something’s on my line. Help!” she whispered in a panic.

He dropped his rod, grabbed the net, and swung his leg over the seat, tucking in behind Anna. Then eased his hand over hers on the rod. “We’re going to lift it in a quick jerk and set the hook on the count of three.”

When he reached ‘three,’ they both pulled back on the rod. The drag was surprising.

“Whoopee, it’s a big one!” Anna bounced on her seat.

“Careful,” he cautioned. “We’ll lose it if it doesn’t wear itself out. Or it could break the line. When I tell you, reel in some line. Now!” Nick said in her ear. He clamped his fingers over hers.

The fish leapt into the air. “Did you see that?” Anna almost dropped the rod in awe.

“Hold on. You’ve got dinner on the hook,” Nick said excitedly. “Hold the line tight. When I say ‘now,’ you jerk the rod up, and I’ll net him.”

Anna followed his direction precisely. Nick reached past the boat and netted the big white, gold and silver fish.

“It’s beautiful in its prehistoric way.”

Nick grabbed a club to hit the fish on the head. Anna was stunned. “What are you doing?”

“Anna, this is part of the catch. You have to kill the fish. Otherwise it suffers. Then we fillet it.”

She turned toward the fish, then back to Nick. The sun glinting off the scales seemed magical.

“Look, it’s the way it’s done. Someone has to do it.” His frustration was evident. “How do you think the food ends up on the shelves?”

“I know, but I didn’t ever think I’d be part of it. Baiting and catching are different than actually killing a living thing. I’ve always tried to keep someone alive. Do we have to? Is it too late? Can we put it back?”

“What kind of fishing did you do before?”

“Catch and release, unless the fish struggled and then someone would take it away. I never knew, I thought they died naturally.”

”The fish is having trouble breathing. If we put it back now, it’ll die soon. We have to finish the job.” He lowered the club with a swift flick of his wrist and the fish stopped moving. He hooked it on some sort of medieval contraption and put it over the side of the boat in the water. “It’ll keep cold until we get back to shore.”

The fun had suddenly vanished from the day. “Do we really have to fillet it?” Anna asked.

“Yes, if we’re going to have it for supper.”

“Could I give it to someone?”

“No. I think we each have to follow through with this or we’ll turn into vegetarians afraid to pull carrots from the ground,” Nick said. “We should take a picture with your first trophy fish. It’s a good size, Anna. Not many of those are caught.”

She smiled weakly. “I told you I had beginner’s luck.”

“How about sharing some of that luck? Tell me about your relationship to John Good. I need to know.” His voice was husky. “Did you win the cottage in a lottery? An auction? None of us know your connection. Not that I’m complaining, I’m glad you came to Regina Beach and glad that you caught me without my prosthesis.”

“Oh, Nick, I would have rather won it in a contest, believe me. But there may be a connection in my story that you won’t like.”

“Will you let me be part of the decision making on this one? As of next week, I’m a free man. No job to go to. Time is my own. Will you spend time with me?”

She bit her lip and wouldn’t look at him. “I can as a friend.”

“If that’s what you need right now, then that’s what it’ll be.”

They docked the boat. Nick corralled a friend with a digital camera to take photos of Anna snug in her life jacket, holding her catch. In most of the pictures, he stood by her side with a proud smile.

He dropped her off promising to fillet the fish and bring it around later. Her job was to extend an invitation to Margaret and Herman so they could all share the first fish of the season for dinner.

That evening, Margaret made golden potatoes. Anna mixed a fresh green salad, Nick barbequed the fish fillets, while Herman chortled in the corner. “Nick, out-fished by Annie. Wait until the guys at the community center hear this.”

“It may be the only time we ever have fish from the lake if we have to hit it over the head.” Anna shivered.

“It was fast.” Nick defended himself.

Anna poured coffee into mugs and set the sugar and creamer on the picnic table. They moved from the kitchen to the deck to enjoy the evening.

Nick reached for his side.

“You okay, boy?” Herman asked. “You look like you got hit with indigestion.”

Nick and Anna looked at each other knowingly and chuckled. “No. When my cell phone vibrates, it surprises me.” He glanced at the number. “Excuse me.”

He stepped to the opposite side of the deck.

“We should all walk downtown to the Blue Bird Café and have a soft ice cream for dessert. We can sit on the steps with our neighbors and tourists,” Margaret said.

“Great idea.” Herman patted his stomach.

“Sorry, folks. Count me out. As Dad suspected, someone has arrived at the B and B. I’ve got to run.” Nick bent to kiss Margaret and chucked Herman on the shoulder. He smiled at Anna and slung an arm around her shoulders. “See you later, alligator.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, light as a butterfly wing.

“In a while, crocodile.” She covered his hand with hers for a moment.

Herman winked at Margaret who declared, “We’ll clean up when we get home. Let’s go now while everyone’s busy watching the cars drive up and down Center Street. They sit on the steps of the café and comment on anything that moves. We’ll get our sweaters and meet you outside.”

“I’ll grab a sweater, too,” Anna said.

“Our treat,” Herman called.

The sun hovered on the horizon. The evening flowers were open. Lights were on in a few houses, air conditioners whirring. “How often do people do this?” Anna asked.

“Every night when it’s not raining. It’s quite the tradition. The Blue Bird Café has been owned by the same family for seventy-nine years. People have been sitting on the steps since the early twenties,” Margaret replied.

“Not the same people,” Herman offered.

“Of course not. But relatives. Families have owned some of the cottages for as many years,” Margaret clarified.

Anna mused, “I wonder if I’ll be able to say I’m not a newcomer in say what, twenty-five years or so.”

“Could be. We grow on people.” Margaret put her arm around Anna.

Margaret and Herman sat and talked with people on the steps or passing by, while Anna joined the line. She gave each of them their cone and sat beside Herman. The cement steps were hard but warm.

Suddenly, a woman dressed in a smock waved her Bible at Anna. “Sick! Sick! Having carnal relations with your half-brother, you’ll not meet your maker on the other side!”

Everyone gawked. Anna saw some turn away, while others watched openly with expectation on their faces.

She stood abruptly. “Hear it from my very own mouth. I am
not
one of John Good’s relations, illegitimate or otherwise. I was about to marry the man who inherited the cottage from John. He died before we made it to the altar. I inherited the cottage free and clear. Now, can you get the facts straight before you pass that around?”

Anna threw her cone in the trash and ran down the street toward the lake before she either bawled her eyes out or flattened the next person who spoke to her.

As she ran she heard Margaret yell, “Harvey, drive us out to Nick’s.
Now
.”

At the sound of a blaring horn, Nick came to see what the commotion was all about. Molly walked beside him. Wearing his sweatshirt, shorts and one running shoe, he hopped behind his walker. “What happened?”

“Oh, Nick. Mrs. Towers was out, and she held up her Bible, calling God’s wrath on Anna for cavorting with her half-brother in front of most of the town,” Herman said.

“Where’s Anna?” Nick commanded.

“I’m not sure, but she headed down the walking path. I think she’ll be at her rock pile,” Margaret interjected.

“Rocks. Where is this mysterious pile?” Nick stared at Herman.

“Behind the abandoned railway station,” Herman replied.

“Molly girl, stay.” Nick spoke firmly.

“Open the trunk, Harvey. Put this in.” Nick handed the walker to Harvey, whose mouth hung open. He opened the passenger door and settled into the seat. “Close your mouth or mosquitoes will fly in. Tonight’s a night for truths.” Nick reached over and turned on the ignition. “Drive, please.”

On the way they discussed the closest point where Nick could exit the car and walk without getting into too much trouble.

“I’ll come with you,” Margaret said.

“No, thank you. It’s time for Anna and me to have a real talk,” Nick replied.

Herman spoke up. “Harvey, drop us at Center Street, we’ll walk home.”

Anna leaned against a large rock watching the sun sizzle into the horizon over the water. She didn’t turn when Nick hopped over behind his walker, but he saw her fists clench as if expecting to be accosted. He kept his voice easy. “Want to tell me about it?”

She finally turned. “Nick, what are you doing here?”

“I heard my friend was in trouble. Almost clobbered a Bible-carrying woman, the way I heard it.” He slid beside her and leaning heavily against the rock, pulled the walker closer with his good leg.

“You got that right. This town! They also know what I told you. I’m not a relation of John Good’s, but the part you don’t know is how I was going to be married to one. His parents told me a few details last night when I called. Murray might have been your half-brother. They refused to tell me more. They said it’s their secret.” She threw pebbles toward the lake. Some bounced, while others found their mark, splashed, and sank to the bottom. “I’m so tired of secrets,” Anna bellowed into the night, and picked up a rock and flung it into the lake.

“Nice rock pile. Did you get permission from the Saskatchewan Fish and Wildlife department to remove rocks?” He used his best authoritative voice.

“What are you talking about?” Her forehead furrowed.

“We can’t remove anything near the lakeshore without the department investigating the environment to make certain we aren’t disturbing any animal or fish habitat.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Anna looked into his eyes.

“No.” He shrugged. “Rules are rules.”