Twisted Creek

Chapter 33

I tried everything to sleep, but my eyes were broken blinds stuck on open. Nana snored from the other bed. She’d had a busy day, what with Carla coming and then cooking a big meal, but her love for this place grew daily. This morning she’d even mentioned that she planned to have a garden next spring.

I’d read the letter from Garrison D. Walker twice before I finally turned off the light. It was all official, but I couldn’t help but feel it had been hurriedly written. My mother wasn’t one to waste time, but this seemed more than that. This speed seemed near panic. I could imagine her rushing into Walker’s office crying so hard she didn’t notice the first two buttons of her blouse were undone. She’d plead until he agreed to look into the matter and then, before she left, she’d demand he inform me. In my mother’s mind, she probably thought the letter would frighten me off the land.

Grinning, I remembered something Nana might have said if she’d understood the problem. “Well,” she would say, “Carla better have another think coming.”

In my mind, I flipped through all the things my mother had said. One kept rolling around in my thoughts. She’d said she’d been promoted and the car was a bonus. Judging from the stream of lies she’d told me since birth, I could almost bet that she was lying about the promotion, and maybe about the car. Also, I could never remember her coming to check on us. Once, when I’d called to tell her we were out of money, she’d responded, “How is that my problem?”

There wasn’t a mothering bone in Carla Daniels. She’d come for the place and nothing more. But she’d lived in Boston and New York. Why would she want a little nothing house on the lake?

All I could come up with was that Carla must need money bad and she needed it fast. I felt sick to my stomach realizing that Nana would give it to her if she could. Carla blamed everything bad that happened to her on Nana. I even heard her blame Nana for having me. Carla had said if Nana had watched her closer, she wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I’d figured out a long time ago that Nana thought that if she kept on giving, at some point Carla would give back.

I saw no hope of that ever happening. Something must have twisted in Carla years ago and no amount of love from Nana would turn it back.

I was no longer a child who had to stand and watch Carla take next month’s grocery money when she left. I’d been on my own long enough to be strong. If she wanted anything from me, she’d have a fight on her hands.

About two A.M. I got up, pulled on my jeans and sweater, and went for a stroll along the same stretch of beach Luke and I had walked earlier. I listened to the water lap the shore and could feel myself growing older by the minute. Part of me mourned the parents I never had. Part of me thanked God I had Nana. Most of me just wanted to live in a world for a while that wasn’t constantly changing.

I let my body relax as I walked. I loved the way the shadows crowded the lake at night, turning the edges to velvet black. I’d thought winter would be an ugly time here after the color of fall, but it wouldn’t be. Winter had its own special beauty out here, I was sure. And the autumn sunsets might not hold the warmth of summer, but the colors glowed gold and orange, spreading out in a long farewell. And the willows and pines turned to ink sketches over gray skies, reminding me of Georgia O’Keefe’s early work done of New York City’s skyline at night.

A light flickered in the tree-blackened darkness a hundred feet from where I stood. I wouldn’t have seen it except that I stood on the beach straight in front of where the light blinked.

The beam blinked again and I moved closer. The moon was high enough for me to make out Luke’s big frame lifting a canoe from the water. He carried a backpack across one shoulder and a flashlight clipped to his belt that pulsed light as he moved.

He headed inland.

I followed.

Within a minute we were in too many trees for me to see him moving, but I followed the flicker of light that dotted the ground in front of me. I heard the canoe drop against wood and then the creak of boards as if he’d stepped onto a porch. The night was so black, I couldn’t make out a cabin. I sensed it more than saw it. I hurried closer and caught the light reflecting on a door. The hinges sounded as the door swung open and I heard the thud of what I guessed was the backpack hitting the floor.

I moved closer, stumbling twice over roots. When I reached the porch, my tennis shoes made no sound as I stepped up.

A low light came on from within the cabin. Taking one step closer, I watched Luke from the open doorway. He’d pulled off his jacket and was unbuckling his shoulder holster. Soundlessly, I stepped over the threshold. I watched him tug off his shirt and shoes. Suddenly, he froze, and I sensed I was in danger.

I didn’t even breathe when he turned slightly and stared at me. I had the strong instinct that if he hadn’t been able to see me clearly I would already be dead.

He shifted, straightening, moving his hand away from the butt of his Glock. The pale glow of a single light flooded me as he stepped out of its way. “What do you want, Allie?”

I could tell by the tired tone in his voice that he hadn’t had any more luck on his quest than I’d had in getting to sleep.

I took one step into his neat little cabin. A living area with a sofa that probably doubled as a bed and one reading chair by the fireplace, a wall that must act as a kitchen, and a table for one by the window.

He watched me. The silence saying more than if he’d yelled at me.

“I don’t want to argue,” I managed. “I don’t even want to talk.”

He didn’t move.

“I can’t sleep. Would you consider not saying a word and just holding me for a while?”

He looked away for a second and I let out a breath, realizing that I’d closed a door earlier. Part of me was still angry and I guessed he might be also. How could he have thought I had anything to do with Jefferson’s death? Part of me didn’t care right now. I just didn’t want to feel so alone.

The light blinked once and was out. The cabin was as black as the night outside. I turned to where I knew the door was and wondered if I trusted my memory enough to try to make it back to the shoreline. From there the moon would light my path.

Before I could take a step, I felt Luke’s arm go around my waist and pull me to him. He pressed against my back, feeling like a wall, strong and protective. I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk,” I whispered. “I don’t even want to think. I just don’t want to be alone.”

He lifted me up and carried me to what felt like the old couch I’d noticed. Luke sat down, pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me. He didn’t try to talk or kiss me, he just held me. The kind of hold a little girl feels from her dad when she’s sad and then spends the rest of her adult life looking for just that kind of safe hold again. Only I’d never had a father hold me in such simple safety.

I nestled my face between his neck and shoulder, loving the smell of him and the slow pounding of his heart. I told myself what he did for a living didn’t matter. He was still my Luke. The same Luke who had been near every time I needed him since we’d arrived.

Slowly, the sounds of the lake whispered in the night. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Dawn woke me. Sometime during the night we’d shifted and spread out across the length of the couch. Luke’s arm rested just under my breasts and his knee trapped both my legs.

I wiggled.

He pulled me tighter.

There was no way I could slip away gracefully and act like this had never happened. After debating my options-none-I poked him in the chest.

He opened one eye, then went back to sleep.

I poked harder.

He opened both eyes and stared at me as if he couldn’t quite remember why I was in his cabin.

I shoved at his arm and he let me go.

I stood, straightened my shirt, and looked for one of my tennis shoes that had fallen off. Hopping around to put it on, I kept an eye on Luke as he slowly sat up and plowed his fingers through his hair.

“We still not talking?”

“Right,” I said more because I couldn’t think of how to tell him how lonely and frightened I’d been last night than because I was still mad at him.

Running out of the cabin, I made it ten feet before I glanced back. He was standing in the doorway watching me go. I thought of backtracking, but he hadn’t trusted me with the truth and I’d be nuts to get involved with a man like him. He was a man who obviously liked being alone. I not only came with my own luggage, I came with Nana’s as well. Besides, Luke hadn’t offered involvement.

I followed the sound of water until I reached the shore, then I stomped back to the dock.

Willie was there, tying up.

“Morning,” he said. “Early for a walk.”

I just nodded. The last person in the world I wanted to talk to about my problems was Willie…except maybe Carla. I’d die of thirst before I told my mother I needed a drink.

As if my thought of her caused her to materialize, the Mercury pulled off the main road and headed toward the store. It didn’t look quite as shiny as it had yesterday and there was no smile on Carla’s face as she stepped out. Her clothes seemed worn, as if she’d slept in them.

I waved good-bye to Willie and walked toward the store. It wasn’t full light yet and I decided this day could not get any worse.