Up at Butternut Lake: A Novel (21 page)

“Still, didn’t you need anything when the road was closed?” Caroline asked.

“Not really,” Allie said. “We lost power during the storm, so I had to throw the melted ice cream in the freezer away, but we salvaged enough to tide us over. And Walker Ford called, too, to see if we needed anything else.” She added quickly, “I told him we were fine, though.”

Was it her imagination, Caroline thought, or had Allie colored slightly at the mention of his name?

“And, by the way,” Allie continued, “thank you for asking him to check on us the night of the storm.”

“He said he was already on his way to your cabin.”

“He was. And he didn’t just check on us, either,” Allie said. “He took us back to spend the night. Then he went out the next morning, before we were even awake, to assess the damage to our cabin. I’d say he went above and beyond being a good neighbor.”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” Caroline said, staunchly. “I mean, I know some people around here find him a little . . .” She searched for the right word. “Standoffish,” she decided. “But he’s not. Private, maybe. Reserved, definitely. But he’s not uncaring. He cares a lot about this town, and the people in it. He’s just prefers to keep to himself, that’s all.”

Allie nodded, pensively. “There was something else about that night, though, I wanted to talk to you about,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Wyatt. He was totally absorbed in his cars. She turned back, sighed, and shook her head. “I kissed him, Caroline,” she said simply. “Standing in his kitchen at eight o’clock in the morning, I kissed him. I have no idea why.”

“Well, I imagine it was because you wanted to,” Caroline said, trying not to smile.

“Well, of course I
wanted
to,” Allie agreed. “But why did I
want
to?”

“Because you’re attracted to him?” Caroline supplied. She knew Allie was not an unintelligent woman. Far from it. But on this particular subject, Caroline thought, she was being a little slow.

“Oh, I’m attracted to him all right,” Allie said, with a rueful smile. “In fact, if Wyatt hadn’t been sleeping in the guest room at the time, who knows where it would have ended?”

Caroline said nothing. She had a pretty good idea, though, of where it would have ended.

“Anyway, since then I’ve been so confused,” Allie continued. “I
want
to see him again. I
don’t
want to see him again. But either way, I’m terrified.” She added quickly, “Not of him. Of the way he made me feel.”

Caroline hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Allie, is it that surprising that you’re attracted to him? I mean, he
is
an attractive man.”

“I know he is. I mean, I knew it before that night. But I knew it
intellectually
. I didn’t know it . . .
physically
. And Caroline?” she said, her eyes widening. “I wasn’t prepared for it. I really wasn’t.”

“Allie?” Caroline asked, gently. “Is Walker the first man you’ve been attracted to since . . . since losing Gregg?”

Allie lowered her eyes. “Yes,” she said.

She’s ashamed,
Caroline thought, with surprise.
She
’s
ashamed that she’s attracted to him.

“But it must have occurred to you that you might be attracted to someone else again one day,” she said, gently.

Allie shrugged. “Maybe if I’d
thought
about it, it would have. But I didn’t think about it. When Gregg didn’t come back, I stopped thinking about men. Or, at least, I stopped thinking about them
that
way. It was almost like I didn’t even really
see
them anymore, if you know what I mean.”

Caroline, it turned out, knew exactly what she meant. Something similar had happened to her after her husband, Daisy’s father, had left. She didn’t mean for it to happen—not exactly, anyway—but she was so exhausted during those early years, raising a child, running a business, that she’d put the idea of men right out of her mind. And later, when she could conceivably have made room in her life again for a man, she discovered she’d gotten out of the habit of thinking about them as potential love interests. Instead, she was apt to think of them only as customers whose empty coffee cups needed refilling, or whose eggs needed to be served over easy with a side of bacon.

But it was one thing for
her
to see men that way, and another thing for
Allie
to see them that way. Allie was still so young—just thirty—and she had a young son, too. Caroline, of course, had raised Daisy without a father, and she’d turned out all right. In fact, she’d turned out just about perfect. But boys were different, Caroline believed. They needed a father, or a father figure, anyway. Someone to throw a baseball around with them.

So she decided to weigh in with an opinion, something she was usually reluctant to do. Most people, she knew from experience, wanted someone to listen to them, but they didn’t necessarily want that someone to tell them what to do. In Allie’s case, though, she decided to make an exception. There was too much at stake not to.

“Allie, listen,” Caroline said, picking up the iced tea pitcher and topping off Allie’s glass. “I
do
know what you mean—about forgetting about men, that is—but here’s the thing about men. When you remember them again, they’re still there. And it turns out they’ve been there the whole time, whether you realized it or not.” She continued, “And as men go, Walker’s a good one. You could do a lot worse if you’re ready to test the waters again.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Allie sighed.

“That’s because sometimes it
is
so simple.”

“But it’s not for me,” Allie persisted. “Being attracted to Walker makes me feel . . .
disloyal
somehow. Like I’m being unfaithful to Gregg. Or unfaithful to his memory, anyway.”

Caroline sighed. This, she knew, was beyond her understanding, and she hated it when people pretended to understand things they didn’t. So she reached over and squeezed Allie’s hand, which was resting on the counter. “I can’t say I know what you’re feeling, honey. Not exactly. But I can imagine it must be very confusing. And very hard.”

Allie exhaled slowly. “So what do I do?” she asked, looking directly at Caroline.

“What do you want to do?”

“Right now?”

Caroline nodded.

“I want to have him over for dinner. Partly to thank him. And partly because I’m hoping that I imagined that that kiss was as good as it was.”

“So you’re hoping he’s a bad kisser?” Caroline asked, smiling in spite of Allie’s serious tone.

“Yes. A terrible kisser. Disgusting, actually. Then I can just put that first kiss out of my mind. Permanently.”

“And that would make it what . . . a fluke?”

“A complete fluke,” Allie agreed.

Caroline laughed, and even Allie had to chuckle. “I guess my logic is a little flawed,” Allie admitted. “But right now, it’s the only plan I’ve got.”

“Well, the asking him over for dinner part is a good idea,” Caroline said. “But I wouldn’t count on him being a bad kisser. He doesn’t seem to me like the kind of man who does anything halfway.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Allie agreed, suddenly serious again. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the engine noises Wyatt was making for his cars.

“Thank you, Caroline,” Allie said, a little while later. “Thank you for listening to me. And not judging me.”

“I try not to judge people,” Caroline said. And it was true. If she had a philosophy in life, that was probably it. Don’t judge people. Not if you could possibly help it.

The jingle of the front door opening interrupted her thoughts. She’d forgotten to flip the Open sign to Closed after Allie and Wyatt had come in at three o’clock. But when she glanced over to see who her customer was, she smiled with pleasure. It was Buster Caine. She hadn’t seen him since the first time he’d come in last month, and she’d started to wonder if he’d changed his mind about buying a cabin up here after all.

“Mr. Caine,” she said, as he walked up to the counter.

“Please, call me Buster,” he said, smiling, his blue eyes crinkling pleasantly, exactly as she’d remembered them doing.

“Buster,” Caroline repeated, feeling suddenly shy in a way she seldom, if ever, did. “Buster, this is Allie Beckett,” she said. “Allie, this is Buster Caine.” Buster and Allie shook hands.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Buster said, glancing politely at Allie, who was looking from Buster to Caroline with interest.

“Not at all,” Allie said, sliding off her stool and helping Wyatt gather up his cars. “Wyatt and I have to be getting back to the cabin now anyway.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay longer,” Caroline said, pointedly. If Allie was leaving because Buster Caine was here, she thought, she was being ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason why the two of them needed to be alone with each other.

But Allie and Wyatt were already heading for the door. “Thanks for the iced tea,” Allie said. “And, Wyatt, please thank Caroline for the milk and cookies.” Wyatt dutifully thanked her.

“Wait, when do you start work at the Pine Cone Gallery?” Caroline called after her.

“Monday,” Allie called back. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Caroline murmured. But they were already gone, the bell jingling as the door swung shut behind them.

“Is this a bad time?” Buster asked, not sitting down at the counter yet. “Because I can always come back. During regular business hours, I mean.” He smiled, a little sheepishly, and Caroline realized he’d hoped to find her alone again. Her stomach fluttered, and she found herself reaching for a dishcloth.

“No, you can stay,” she said, with studied casualness, rinsing the dishcloth out at the sink and starting to wipe down the counter with it. “I don’t know what I can offer you to eat, though. We’ve had a really busy day. I feel like we ran out of everything at the same time.”

“That’s all right. I’ve already had lunch,” he said. “I’d love something cold to drink, though. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all. What about an iced tea? I’ve got a freshly brewed pitcher of it right here.”

“Sounds good,” he said, sitting down on one of the stools.

“And if I’m not mistaken,” she said, “there’s one more piece of apple pie left, too.”

“I don’t see how I could say no to that,” he said, smiling.

Caroline poured his iced tea and slid the last wedge of apple pie onto a plate. She set them both down in front of him on the counter, along with lemon wedges, sugar, a napkin, and a fork.

“Now
this
was worth a trip into town,” Buster said, helping himself to a forkful of pie.

Caroline smiled and poured herself another glass of iced tea. “So how are you settling in?” she asked.

“Pretty well,” he said. “I’ve got everything unpacked now.”

“Were you here the night of the storms?” she asked, concerned.

He shook his head, finishing a bite of pie. “I’d gone back down to the Twin Cities to tie up some loose ends, but I’m back now. And I’m not just here, at this fine establishment, for a piece of pie. Although God knows the pie is a bonus.”

Caroline raised her eyebrows. “What are you here for?”

He put his fork down. “I’m here to ask you if you’d like to come up in my airplane with me. You said you’d never flown before. Well, here’s your chance.”

For a moment, Caroline was too surprised to say anything. “Me?” she finally sputtered. “In an airplane?”

“Why not?”

“Well,
why
would be a better question, wouldn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Okay, fair enough. Why, because you’ll be doing something you’ve never done before. And you’d be giving me the pleasure of your company. And I hope I’m not being conceited when I say that I’m not bad company myself, as a general rule.”

Caroline hesitated. She was having trouble formulating a response.

“Look,” he said, “my plane is at the Butternut Municipal Airport. It’s a five-minute drive from here. And we don’t have to stay up for long, if you don’t want to. Thirty minutes, tops.”

When she finally spoke, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “But don’t those little planes sometimes crash?”

“Well, nothing in life is entirely risk-free,” he admitted. “But I’m an excellent pilot, and I’ve never had any problems with this plane before.”

Caroline wavered again. “Look, I don’t know what you charge for your charter business, but I probably can’t afford to pay it.”

“This isn’t a sales call, Caroline,” he said, surprised. “I’m not expecting you to pay. I’m asking you to come as a friend.”

“A friend?” she repeated.

“That’s right.”

Caroline hedged. “So this wouldn’t be a date?”

“A date?” He looked mildly amused. “You know, I haven’t been on one of those in a long time, but I think they still call them that. So, yes. I guess this would be a date. Is there a problem with that?”

“Not a problem, exactly,” Caroline said. “But we don’t know each other very well yet, do we?”

He looked amused again. “That’s true. But isn’t that the whole point of a date? Two people getting to know each other a little better?”

“I guess so,” she said, doubtfully.

“Okay,” he said, considering something. “Maybe I shouldn’t take you up in my plane. Maybe that’s a little . . .
adventurous
for a first date. Why don’t we go out for a cup of coffee? That’s assuming, of course, that there’s somewhere else around here where we can get a decent cup of coffee.”

“No, Buster. This is it,” she said, looking around.

He sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t mean to make it hard. I just don’t date, that’s all.”

“Not
ever
?” he asked gently.

“Not
recently,
” she said. Because of course she had dated in the years since her husband had left her. A shop teacher from the high school. A veterinarian who had a practice in town. And she had liked them both immensely. But not enough, it turned out, to invite them into the life she and Daisy had built together. And now that Daisy had left home? Might that change now? But no . . . She shook her head, a little sadly.