Читать книгу Weathering the Storm - Morgan Q O'Reilly - Страница 9

Chapter 3

Karl dragged me from the street.

“What’d you do that for? I was having fun.”

“Yeah, but the music changed.” Karl pointed toward the people now dancing with wild abandon. “It’s bad enough your dad tried to make me promise to slap a helmet on your head before letting you out of the house. All it would take to bring down parental wrath would be one little bruise from that mess. You want them to haul you back to that brain hospital?”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. You’re right. Since you won’t let me dance out there, do I get a beer, Mother?” I threw a heavy dose of sarcasm into the dig and scored a point when Karl flinched.

“Be fair. You know what it took to get them to loosen the leash. And may I remind you, that while I love you, I don’t exactly have time to play babysitter. Don’t make me regret agreeing to have you up here for the summer.”

I did know. Still, hadn’t I progressed from infancy to at least puberty by now? Gee, by the end of summer I hoped they might even let me use matches. Frankly, I was hoping to get my license back and drive again.

“All right.” I sighed again. “I’ll cut you a little slack if you’ll do the same for me. I don’t need a babysitter anyway.”

Karl gave me a sour look. “I am cutting you some slack by bringing you out here in the first place.” Then a smile brightened his face. Diversionary tactic at its best. “Hungry? Bill told me we were welcome to couple of his moose patties. I know you haven’t had one in a long time.”

Then again, some diversions were better than others. “Bill always has the best moose burgers and I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Come on. We can find out who that guy with him is. I think he’s the one Bill hired to add on to his hotel.”

“Paul Bunyan with the dark red hair?”

Maddie giggled as Karl wrapped his hands around our elbows.

“Noticed already, I see.”

We swerved around a guy wearing a do-rag who looked barely old enough to be out on his own, much less holding the plastic cup full of beer.

“I didn’t lose all my brains, you know. Just a few of the memory ones.” Involuntarily my hand rose to touch the left side of my head, just above the ear. Once again I considered coloring the white streak it to match my natural brown, but the doctors had discouraged it because of the chemicals.

Karl threw his arm around my shoulders. “I know you didn’t, kiddo. But until I get a chance to learn the new you, give me the benefit of the doubt, okay? I haven’t spent a lot of time around you since college. What, five years in school and you pulled out with a double BS and a Masters on top of that? Then another three playing crazed scientist? Come on, who gets their brain insured for millions except someone super special? That’s enough to set you outside of ordinary on a good day. Even without the cracked noggin, you’re a different person than the scrawny seventeen-year-old who was last here eleven years ago.”

“Don’t believe everything my paranoid parents told you. I’m still a super brain.” I dug an elbow into his side. “I just can’t access all the information or the memories.”

“Well, you better dig one up quick. If I’m not mistaken, there’s your best old ex-boyfriend Mike waving at us.”

“Mike.” One memory I’d just as soon not recall. My first, and most painful, relationship to date. Something I’d long ago learned, even before the accident, to package away in the storage closet of my mind, labeled as unimportant past history. “Boyfriend the summer before I went to college. Taught me a few new climbing tricks?”

“Would have gotten your virginity if you hadn’t caught him doing Bev.”

“Ah yes. Bev. Wanted to be my best friend. Didn’t like to climb, but came along to hold ropes. Ended up holding something else.” Yeah, that memory had been purposefully buried. Also, though Karl didn’t know, Mike had gotten my virginity. A fact I’d carefully kept to myself.

“Well, I know he heard about your accident, so get ready to talk, ’cause he’s about five seconds away.”

I barely had time to assume a serene expression before he was there. Tall, even more blond and beautiful than he’d been. At thirty, he’d filled out and developed the kind of muscles that came from constant motion. Probably climbing in the summer and chopping wood in the winter.

“Zettie.” Never short of confidence, the man from my past stopped just short of full body contact. Close enough I could have reached out for a hug. Instead, I shuffled back an inch and watched a hint of disappointment cloud eyes that stared into mine before roving to my head covering. “How are you? I heard–”

“I’m fine, really.” Not going there. I cut him off and smiled brightly. “I took a knock on the noggin, but I’m doing great now. Good to see you again, but we’re on our way…” I glanced around and saw Bill waving. I waved back. “See you around.”

Karl took the hint, tightened his hold around my shoulders and headed toward the grills.

More than anything, I didn’t let myself think about the shocked look on Mike’s face. How much more shocked would it have been if I had said what I’d really been thinking? If only Bev had been there too, I would have shared some statistical facts about men who cheated on their partners. Then again, everyone had told me Bev was gunning for Mike that summer, so maybe Mike should be the one to hear the warning. Mentally I shrugged off the incident. Over. Done. Reminded myself to be polite if I bumped into either one of them over the next few months.

One convenient side effect of the accident–if I didn’t want something to stick in short-term memory, it rarely did. Of course, the downside was often something I wanted to remember slid right on past the short-term storage area. If I was lucky enough, the memory settled into long-term and a small trigger would bring it back. Sometimes. Nothing I could rely on, as I’d learned over and over again these past three years. Well, two years since they’d let me out of the hospital, right into rehab and the loving arms of my zealously protective parents.

“Point out other folks to me, would you? I see very few familiar faces.” The few I thought I recognized looked at me curiously, but didn’t rush over to say hello. A shout went up from the dancers and I cringed into Karl’s side. Not a response I wanted to cultivate.

“Easy, babe. Cousin Karl is here to watch out for you. We’ll get you reconnected with Uncle Bill over there and won’t nobody be smacking into you.”

“Good heavens, where did you learn English? Rapper U? Gangsta Online? Ghetto-Speak for White Boys 101?”

“Thought you’d like that.” Unrepentant, he grinned a mile wide and stopped near the grills. “Bill, lookee who came back to visit.”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face when the older man turned from the grill and opened his arms wide.

As far as I’d ever heard, no one knew where he’d come from, or why he’d chosen Talkeetna, but one day he’d wandered into town. Spent a week at the Roadhouse, talked to anyone who had something to say. Not long after, he bought a four bedroom log house just south of the main drag, and the next year opened it up in time for the summer tourist season. He had a calm, mountain-man type of demeanor, offered up rational advice when asked, never talked about his past, never passed judgment, lent a helping hand where it was needed, and had a way with sourdough that had grown to legendary status locally. As far back as I could remember, he’d always worn his long hair in a braid and kept his beard trimmed and combed. He was the uncle to my generation, the link between us and our parents, and on occasion, served as mediator between the two warring factions.

Without a moment’s hesitation I flung myself into his embrace, instinctively keeping the injured side of my head to the outside.

“Look at you, missy.” He folded me into strong arms and carefully rocked me.

As hugs went, it fell far short of the way he’d once lifted my feet from the ground and spun me in circles. Damn. Word was out. I’d so wanted to come back and be treated as normal. A sense of disappointment sank from my heart to my toes.

“How’s my dream man?” I asked as he set me back on my feet. Maybe if I treated him the same as always, he’d relax.

“Now that you’re all grown, I’m ready for a soft, peaceful sort of woman. You stayed away too long, squirt.”

Stepping back, I took a good, long look at him. His braided hair seemed a little longer, but had new touches of gray that also frosted the grizzled beard. New, deeper lines fanned out from his eyes and mouth. All in all, he looked like Bill, just a decade older. “You’re not that old.”

He grinned, but changed the subject. “Hey, I want to introduce you. This is the guy building my addition. Azzette, this is Aiden Shaughnessy, recently up from Michigan. Aiden, this is Azzette Bettencourt. Sort of a local girl done good. Did you come to slum for the summer?”

I nodded as my gaze collided with the laser blue of the giant reaching out a hand to me. He was much bigger, this close. At least six-two, by my reckoning. Automatically I returned the gesture and found my hand engulfed in a cool, dry embrace. The coolness of his hand was at odds with the blue flame in his eyes. Probably from the beer he held.

“Pleased to meet you, Aiden Shaughnessy of Michigan. What brought you to Alaska?” Aiden. Shaughnessy. Michigan. Carpenter. Builder. Tall. Auburn hair a little on the shaggy side. By summer’s end he’d probably have a ponytail. Only a barely-there beard as of yet, but that was only a matter of time. Many men in Talkeetna didn’t worry themselves overmuch about things like big city grooming. Most women in town considered themselves lucky if their man showered every other day.

Aiden. The name was a good place to start. And his scent. Clean. No sticky soap smell. Just fresh. A hint of musk, like a man who’d been working in the sun, not overly sweaty, just…honest. Maybe with a hint of sawdust and yeast and hops from the beer in his hand.

“Two of my brothers brought me up here, after the sister-in-law talked me into it.” His lips quirked up on the side and humor twinkled back at me.

“Here, Zettie.” Karl appeared at my side with a plastic cup only half-filled with a golden liquid supporting a thin layer of foam.

My heart sank a little. “Only half?” Treating me like a toddler.

“Prove to me you can handle it, and next time you’ll get more. Don’t guzzle it.” He reached past me and introduced himself and Maddie to Aiden.

I tried to listen, but Bill turned back from the grill and handed me a plate with a sizzling burger on a bun.

“Moose, squirt. Totally organic.” He winked in his teasing way and I laughed. “See me after you fix your bun. I have a few tomatoes hidden over here from my greenhouse. Once your folks told me they were going organic, I decided to experiment and set me up a special addition to grow vegetables through the winter. Got some good stuff in the greenhouse you should look at some time.”

“Hey, great.” Not wanting to miss the fresh veggies, I hurried to the table and checked out the selections. I definitely wanted the tomatoes, which were welcome so early in the season. On the table I found lettuce and pickles, but the onion looked like it’d been sitting out too long. As I built my burger and looked over the remains of the sides, I said hello to a few other grazers. Some looked vaguely familiar. Probably people I’d known long ago. Many of those milling about were a good six to ten years younger than me and were probably summer imports, there to work the season, then drift on to the next adventure.

Never gregarious to begin with, I smiled, said hello, but kept my nose to the selection of food. Eventually I selected some kettle chips and a handful of cucumber slices. When it came to condiments, I debated for a long minute, reading the labels of each bottle. Not one of them said organic, therefore were suspect.

“Just squeeze it out the top.”

The deep voice at my side broke my concentration as I tried to decide if one teaspoon of processed tomatoes would cause injury if ingested just this once. Tomatoes were notorious for being overly treated with pesticides. Did this national brand take care to thoroughly wash it all off? Could they really get it all? How much ended up in the finished product? Hadn’t anyone in this town heard of organic condiments? I was tired of only eating mustard on my burgers when organic ketchup and mayonnaise weren’t available. It seemed like I hadn’t had a decent meat burger in years, although I had grown to like veggie burgers and the little buffalo I’d had was okay. The elk burger someone had given my folks hadn’t been my thing.

I looked up at the man I’d just met. “Chemicals. I’m trying to figure out how bad the bad ones are in these small doses.”

With a lifted brow, he took the ketchup bottle from my hand and squeezed a large amount on his own bun. “I doubt there’s enough there to poison a mosquito, much less a healthy human. Granted, if you drank the entire bottle you might get an upset stomach, but probably from the acid in the tomato rather than the maltodextrin. That, or the high salt content.” He shrugged and held the bottle out to me.

“You’re right. A tablespoon won’t hurt.” There was such a thing as being fanatical. I squeezed a dollop onto my bun.

Karl and Maddie appeared at the condiments table and I found myself herded over to a picnic table where some old timers made room for us. I wanted to talk with Aiden–good strong Irish name–some more, but Karl and Bill flanked me and edged him to the side. He sat across the table, and down a couple spaces, next to one of the gift shop owners, whose face looked a little familiar. I took out my phone and on the pretense of looking up something, started taking pictures. Karl could give me names later. After the first couple of shots, people figured it out and it became a game. Pictures and names.

Mrs. Sorenson, my fourth grade teacher. Of course, now I recognized her. She invited me to stop by the gift shop she’d taken to running for her retirement.

Once I had everyone at the table, the conversation moved on. I took an extra of the builder just for fun.

Although people looked at me with questions, their eyes straying to the scarf around my head, probably wondering where I’d been injured, they didn’t ask. Instead they concentrated on Aiden, the newcomer from Outside, and the upcoming summer season.

Bill told of his plans to double the size of the inn he’d bought twenty years earlier and had turned into something of a local favorite.

Karl nodded to the flight crew renting two of his eight rooms for the summer. Two pilots and two mechanics, they all found seats nearby. I hadn’t had much time to do more than try to memorize which face went with which name. Which I couldn’t remember, so I took their photos, too.

Bill insisted I fill in his contact information with phone, website, address and every other detail he could think of. Including his birthday.

“I expect a present this year. You’ve forgotten all about me these past eleven years. You’ve got some making up to do.”

“Yeah, sure, just as soon as you cough up eleven years of birthday presents for me,” I teased right back. “Let me eat first, then I’ll get to the gory details.”

The juicy moose burger distracted me from the conversation around me. God, it was so good! Lean and minimally processed with just the right seasonings, it was meat I could eat without worrying. Now, if only I could get free-range chickens and turkey without making a huge process out of it.

Unwilling to give up the least bit of flavor, I licked my fingers clean of the juices and sighed with pleasure.

“Done?” Karl stuffed a napkin into my hand. The odd note in his voice made me look over to see his mixed grin. A bit amused, a lot dismayed, somewhat confused. “Be kind to the local males, please. Save that orgasmic look for inside four walls, would you?”

I blinked back at him. “Huh?” What was he talking about?

“Never mind, just wipe your face, okay?”

I rolled my eyes and wiped my face and fingers. Thirsty, I reached for the nearest plastic cup in front of me. Logic said it was mine, but it was empty. I nudged Karl with my elbow. “Thought you were getting me a beer? What’d you do with it?”

The look he gave me was one part wary caution, another part exasperation. “You drank it. I told you not to guzzle it.”

I concentrated on the flavors in my mouth. Meat, ketchup, pickle, mustard…but no beer. “I didn’t drink it.”

Karl rolled his eyes but poured a few ounces from his cup into mine. “That’s all the more you get. If you can’t remember what you’ve been drinking, then you shouldn’t be drinking alcohol at all.”

Although he had a point, I didn’t want to let it go. However, for now, with an audience, I shrugged him off. Later, we’d talk.

My gaze caught that of the Irishman across the table. Eyes as clear as lab grown diamonds with rare-earth ions inside the crystal structure–something like praseodymium would give it that incredible blue shade–drilled into my head. Like a good laser, the stare aimed at me set fire to places I’d forgotten about, and made me aware of him in a way I didn’t recall ever feeling. Not even with Mike, but that could be one of the memories lost when the rocks I’d landed on changed so many things from my past.

No, I didn’t want to lose this memory. I gulped down the last sip of my beer, then reached for my phone again. I’d forgotten to make notes on him. So far it had proven to be the most reliable method for keeping track of new information. People were more than happy to pick up where they’d left off so I could eat.

After entering the numbers and names to go with the faces, I needed a break. “Back in a minute.” The escape gave me a chance to sort all the new data into the mental memory banks. But there was something I’d missed. I had that feeling. With a glance over my shoulder, I made sure Karl was looking the other direction, then altered my trajectory toward the rack of party pig beer holders. A helpful, if tipsy, soul filled a cup for me and I gulped half of it down before turning back to the table. Cold and slightly fizzy, it tasted damn good. Like something I’d once had on a hot afternoon. Beer, wine, and any other form of alcohol, had been on the doctors’ not approved list and I hadn’t had a sip, not one, since the fall.

Back at the table, I saw the smiling Irishman again and remembered. I’d taken his picture, but hadn’t input any information on him. At Karl’s raised brow, I tipped my cup so he could see the level of liquid barely reached the half way mark. What he didn’t know… Dammit, I was an adult.

While conversation flowed, I pecked at the tiny optical keyboard on the screen of my phone. Aiden Seanessy, I typed next to his photo. I hadn’t asked for his phone number, so I made a note he worked for Bill, and a few other tidbits I recalled. He was from Montana, and built homes. Construction worker. Or was he a general contractor? Did it matter? I rubbed my eyes, sipped my beer and let the gentle mellowness ease over me as I typed in my notes using the shorthand I’d often used in the lab.

About the time I finished, Karl nudged my arm. “Our day starts at oh-dark-thirty. The crew needs a good hearty breakfast to get them through the day. If you’re cooking, you need some sleep.”

“Oh-kay.” I glanced up at the sky and then down at my phone. Nearly eleven, and it felt like Colorado nine o’clock. Yeah, getting used to the long daylight again would take a bit of time. Good thing I could sleep in the light, even though Karl had assured me the light blocking blinds in my little room under the kitchen worked just fine. And I was tired. Lord, I was tired. And maybe a tad tipsy. Perhaps that second beer hadn’t been a great idea after all, but it had tasted so good.

Getting up from the table, I stumbled a little.

Karl grabbed my arm. “Tell me you’re not drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. A bit jet lagged, a little tired, long day. You know. But I’m not drunk.”

He gave me a long look. “Yeah, okay. I keep forgetting you just flew in today. That, and your body clock needs adjusting. All the more reason to get home and get some sleep.”

“Damn.”

I turned to look over my shoulder. Aiden stood close.

“I was hoping to dance with her now that the music is mellowing out.”

“I could dance,” I said and turned his direction.

“Zettie, that’s not a great idea. I made a promise and I’m not going to break it the first night you’re here.”

I looked back at Karl and frowned. “What promise?”

“Your folks, remember? I’m your surrogate father while you’re here and I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I just handed you over to some guy none of us know.” He shrugged at Aiden. “Sorry, but you’re a stranger here.”

Bill stepped in with a hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “He’s staying in the trailer at my place. You’ve got my number if it gets too late.”

Aiden nodded. “I’ll get her home safe. I don’t want to get a reputation for being an asshole the first week I’m in town. My da raised me better than that.”

Karl gave him a long stare, sizing him up. They were about equal in height, but Aiden had muscle mass on him. “See that you keep her safe. One mark on her…”

“And I’ll expect you to kick my ass. Probably right after Bill does it.” Aiden held out his hand and Karl reluctantly shook it in return.

Wow. No one, in my entire life, had ever faced such wrath from my male relatives. No one had gone caveman over me like that. That I remembered. It’s possible Dad had taken on a teacher, principal, doctor or hospital administrator or two over the course of my life. I’d never heard any tales, but it was possible.

Karl took the plastic cup from my hand. “Stick your phone in your pouch so you don’t lose it. But yeah, okay, I guess. I’m counting on you, Shaughnessy.”

“My pleasure.” He agreed readily enough, but sent Karl a questioning look all the same. “Your place is back behind the Fairview?”