The Bluebird Bet Read online

  “What do you do? How do you cope?” This was the key. Getting over the guilt he felt for surviving and giving up meant the difference between fighting the constraints of Tall Pines and being comforted by them. He knew it.

  She laughed. “Work around the clock. Kill myself to ensure I don’t let anyone down until some days I don’t love the job anymore and wish there was something else, like maybe restoring an old inn.”

  He groaned. “So what do we do, then? Kill ourselves for the job?”

  “I wish I knew.” She was quiet for so long that the silence of Spring Lake calmed him again. “Maybe...maybe what we do is accept our limitations.” She stumbled over the last word as though she couldn’t believe she was saying it. “Everyone needs rest, Dean. Why should we be any different?”

  Her shoulder bumped his again, and he thought about blurting out how much he appreciated her coming to sit next to him, that she had no idea what the gesture meant. He bit his tongue. Control mattered more when his emotions were so raw.

  “You won’t believe me when I say it, but you need to talk about what you saw, how it makes you feel. You can’t carry this all by yourself. You shouldn’t have to.” She folded her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, apparently satisfied with her words of wisdom.

  “I almost knocked on your door. I knew you’d listen. Then I nearly called my dad.”

  “What stopped you?”

  He had to consider her question. When the answer came, he hated it. “Fear. I was afraid you would think I was weak.”

  Her snort echoed in the silence of the cove. “Believe me, I don’t think you’re weak. Brave, yes. Maybe a little foolhardy because anyone who climbs a ladder like you should think harder about the distance to the ground. But never weak.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  “And your father? He’d never think that, either,” Elaine added. “But I had to convince him taking care of himself was smart, not weak, so I suspect I know where you got your ideas.”

  Her dry delivery made him laugh.

  “You’re pretty smart, Doc.” Skating right past how much she’d helped just by showing up would be the easiest thing to do.

  But she thought he was brave.

  “Thanks for listening, Elaine. Talking to you...” Made him hope things could get better. Made him wish they’d met some other way. Made him want to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer, hold her against his chest until he couldn’t remember bad dreams anymore. “It helped.”

  She sighed. “I know. It’s what I do.”

  Then they both laughed.

  “Being alone...it’s not easy in the middle of the night.” Dean turned to watch her face. “I’m always glad to see the sunrise, but today, I’m glad you joined me, too.”

  Elaine stared at her hands. “That’s one thing I do understand, Dean. Loneliness is hard, no matter what hour of day it is.”

  Dean wrapped his hand over hers. “Yeah. Having you here has been...nicer than I expected.”

  Her soft laugh was beautiful there beside the lake, and whatever fear remained from the nightmares faded.

  But he didn’t let go of her hand. Finding something in common with successful, driven Elaine Watson was nice.

  He had no doubt she understood loneliness, and he’d probably never look at her the same way again.

  The first rays of sunshine peeking up over the tops of the mountains were a sign that the new day was going to be bright.

  “Today’s the day we climb a mountain. You said you were definitely going, remember?” Dean said as he stood up.

  He smiled as she started shaking her head immediately.

  “I have way too much to do today.” She glanced at her bare wrist. “I have to be in town in a couple of hours. Besides, there’s not enough light. I can’t fall off a mountain. People depend on me.”

  Ignoring the short zing of pain at the reminder that he’d let his father down by being absent so long, Dean said, “We won’t climb any mountains.” At least, not the actual mountainside. Although, when he opened his camp, rock climbing would definitely be an activity offered.

  Dr. Elaine Watson would sooner climb the ladder to the roof. That much was obvious.

  “You can borrow one of my cameras. It’ll be fun.” He raised an eyebrow and waited. She had no choice but to agree. Otherwise, he’d make clucking noises.

  Her gusty sigh said loudly that hiking with him was a huge problem in a way that sitting with him through a long night had not been. “Okay. Fine. Meet me on the porch in twenty.”

  “Make it ten.” He watched her trot up the hill, her muttering triggering a smile, and wondered if he’d just made a terrible mistake. Sitting with her, talking about the things he didn’t share with anyone, was dangerous. Sharing a laugh and allowing the heat of competition to sizzle between them made him think he’d never find another woman like her. Elaine’s mix of care, concern, pragmatism, ambition and just plain energy for whatever challenges came along was rare.

  And spending as much time as he had reflecting on how sweet her kiss might be was the worst sign of all. He trudged up the hill, determined to put distance between them.

  When she met him on the porch, he held a camera, his tool for gaining some objectivity on the world. The key to telling the hard stories was the distance of the lens.

  She took his beat-up Nikon—the first camera he’d bought himself...the one he’d held on to even when he was able to afford the finest professional cameras—and gazed longingly toward her usual jogging trail. Then she sighed. “What’s the goal here?” Once the camera strap was around her neck, she walked slowly down the steps.

  After he attached a midrange zoom lens to the top-of-the-line camera he’d carried into some tight spots, he followed her. “You mean, how do we decide who wins?”

  “Well...” She stopped, a confused frown on her face, as if she couldn’t figure out whether to agree with him or protest that of course she didn’t mean that. He waited for her to work it out and decided that in addition to being unfairly alert at this hour, it wasn’t right that she should be so pretty in the morning light. He shifted the camera, wondering what she’d do if he snapped a quick picture of her standing there, looking so serious and so sweet.

  Idiot. She’s a shark with a nice smile. This is a terrible idea. Maybe you don’t want the Bluebird as much as you say you do.

  He had to get his head on straight. And it was a terrible suggestion, but he’d already started. He couldn’t back down now. She’d take that inch and cross the finish line a mile ahead.

  “I guess it’s possible that we aren’t competing this morning,” Elaine said and raised an eyebrow at him.

  He led them toward an old trail. Even if this was a really bad plan, he might as well enjoy the adventure.

  That was kind of his life’s philosophy.

  The trail wound up to the top of the mountain behind the inn, where he could see the lake and part of Tall Pines.

  Or it had a decade ago.

  Now everything might be different.

  He stopped when Elaine gripped his sleeve. “You aren’t going to take me out in the woods and leave me, are you? Because my sense of direction isn’t up to hacking my way through forest.” She wrinkled her nose. “I might deserve it, but you won’t, will you?”

  The chink in her armor, her fear at being abandoned, surprised him. And it made him wonder about her own battle with loneliness.

  “No, I won’t desert you. That’s my favorite camera.” He waited for her to laugh and then took her hand, alarmed again at how nice it felt. “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

  She opened her mouth but thought better of whatever she was going to say. Instead of arguing or demanding more assurance, she squeezed his hand. “All right. I’m going to trust you to keep that promise.�
�� She gestured at the camera. “Want to give me any pointers with this?”

  “Sure.” He walked around to look over her shoulder and then wished he hadn’t. This close, he could smell shampoo and warm skin. “Here’s the aperture setting. The smaller the number, the wider open the lens, so if you need lots of light to get a clear shot, lower it. Just remember that the area of focus narrows when you do that so things get blurry in the background.”

  She nodded, and her ponytail brushed his shoulder. He took a deep breath and rushed through the rest. “Here’s the shutter. Fast shutter for action with good light. Slow shutter for stationary objects and low light. If it’s a low number, you get lots of light, but the lens stays open longer so you have to be still or your shot will get blurry. That’s all there is to it.”

  Then he marched past her and headed up the barely visible trail. When he opened this to visitors, he’d have to mark it better, or they’d have the forest rangers out here every day looking for hikers like the doctor who thought in left and right instead of east and west.

  And the less he thought about her, the better. If she got close enough, as close as they’d been, he might lose the battle and kiss her.

  That would be an awesome, terrible mistake.

  “Hey, wait,” Elaine called. “I want to take a picture.”

  He turned to see her kneeling on the path, the camera to her eye as she aimed carefully at a wildflower. He thought he heard her mutter, “Low light, low shutter, low aperture.”

  A beautiful woman who’d listened to what he’d said and taken it to heart in order to take the best shot of a common weed. How was he supposed to hold on to the wary adversarial spirit when she insisted on being so great?

  Then she bounced up, as satisfied as could be with her first shot, and smiled brightly at him.

  His only defense against kissing her was to raise his own camera and snap a photo of her. That much joy needed to be captured.

  “Hey, no photos, please,” she said and eased around him. “Don’t you know you don’t aim a camera at a woman before she puts her face on?”

  She hurried up the trail in long strides. Neither the change in altitude nor the exertion of hiking up, up, up seemed to have any effect on her.

  “Come on! I know we aren’t racing, but I’m winning.” He could hear the smile in her voice and figured he was doomed. His only shot was to stall.

  “You’re only winning if you’re going in the right direction,” he yelled and took off up the path to catch her. For the rest of the hike, he was able to focus on the sensation of pushing himself higher and higher while he reconnected with his camera.

  He could hear her thudding steps for a bit, then nothing. He had to stop more than once to see the faint blue paint marking the path and eventually walked out into the opening on top of the mountain.

  Where there was no Elaine.

  “Elaine?” he shouted and turned back down the trail, watching for any signs that she’d made a wrong turn. She’d either been faking her fear of getting left behind or had forgotten it when she’d seized her chance to forge ahead. He fished out his cell phone and saw that the signal was weak. “Elaine? Can you hear me?”

  “Just keep yelling. I’m headed in your direction.” Even here he could detect the annoyance in her voice.

  “Okay, should I tell you how easy it was to beat you when you have no sense of direction?” He propped one shoulder on a pine. “Or I could tell you this cool story I’ve heard. It’s about a tortoise and a hare.”

  “Ha ha. Funny. And I deserve every bit.”

  He bent to see her moving slowly through the undergrowth. She didn’t look like a winner. If he took this shot, he’d call it “Lost Loser with a Limp.” And she’d probably use one of the hundreds of ways a doctor might know to kill him and have the final laugh. Murder wasn’t too far from her mind if he had to judge by her glare.

  He offered her his arm. “What happened? Trip over your ego?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and then laughed. “Little bit. Twisted my ankle. I can walk it off.”

  “So much for not competing this morning.” He wanted to snap at her to not do stupid things that could lead to getting hurt, but the color on her cheeks convinced him she was already embarrassed enough.

  “I forgot.” She shrugged awkwardly. “It’s like this compulsion I have. Now I can’t seem to break it. Thank you for looking for me instead of...”

  “I said I wouldn’t leave you.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Never mind. Back to the sightseeing.”

  They walked slowly up to the top of the mountain where the trees cleared, and he was glad to see the view of the lake remained. “Whoa. This is worth the climb.” Elaine braced her hands on her hips and slowly turned in a circle. “Is that the courthouse?”

  “Yes.” When would he learn that she didn’t react the way he expected? He’d anticipated some whining, maybe a hundred questions about the camera or perfect photo composition.

  Instead, she’d thrown herself into it and done the best she could.

  She would have been a fearless photojournalist, too, but only with the help of a compass.

  “But it’s quite a bit higher than I really love.”

  He pointed at the face of the mountain. “We could have come up this way.”

  She took a step closer to the edge and raised her eyebrow. “Have you lost your mind? What are we? Squirrels?”

  He laughed. “Believe it or not, some adventurous types would pay decent money to climb up that way.”

  She pushed her glasses up. “It takes all kinds. I’ll wait until I meet them in the ER, thank you very much. Besides, I nearly killed myself by bad sense of direction. I don’t need any help from gravity.”

  Amused at her ability to poke fun at herself, he said, “I’ll definitely handle marking the trail myself.”

  Her embarrassed flush was too cute. He pointed at a big rock near the edge, where he’d spent a lot of time as a kid, just waiting for something. “We could sit. I know from experience it’s not too uncomfortable.” He held out his hand.

  “That is extremely close to the edge.” She shifted back and forth as though she couldn’t decide. He waved his fingers, and finally she sighed loudly and wrapped her hand around his. The closer they got, the harder she gripped, and eventually she had the sleeve of his T-shirt in a stranglehold. When their feet were dangling over the drop, he checked to see that she was still breathing. “You okay? Ankle better?”

  She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes. But I’m never leaving. I’m going to die right here, and it’ll be all your fault. I’m coming back to haunt you, too.”

  He laughed. “Every time I see you like this, I...”

  “Afraid, you mean? Is this your version of winning?” She shook her head as if she should have known.

  He almost snapped that it was better than running through the woods like an idiot but realized he could be a good sport even if she didn’t grasp the concept.

  “I was going to say when I see you like this, doing something you don’t naturally excel at, I like you better.” And it scared him.

  She raised an eyebrow. “My failure makes me more likable?”

  “Being human makes you more likable.” He loosened the tight knot of her hands and threaded his fingers through hers. “Here. I’m afraid you’re going to break your own fingers.”

  She didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull away, either.

  “Being vulnerable is hard.” She said it quietly and looked out across the tops of the trees toward the lake that was as pretty from up above as it was sitting on the dock.

  “I have no idea what you mean.” He laughed when she rolled her eyes.

  “I haven’t done much research on post-traumatic stress disorder, but it seems a straightforward diagnosis.” Now she lo
oked at him, when he wanted her to pretend he wasn’t there, but her eyes showed nothing but concern. “Talking to a professional about your nightmares would be a big step, Dean. And if you wanted to take more steps, there’s an antianxiety drug that could help, I just know it.”

  Instead of the anger he expected, he felt tired. “I’ll consider it.”

  For a long time, they were quiet, and all Dean could think of was how crazy it was that this ambitious doctor who never met a challenge she couldn’t outrace was sitting beside him and sharing this flawless moment.

  She should be annoying, difficult, hard to please and a general drain on his good humor.

  Instead, sitting here next to her helped him shake off the bad night and focus on the future.

  “Jackie told me that Edna’s going to be your judge.” And just like that she helped him regain his footing, too. “I asked him to be mine.” She smiled at him. “Also, you’re planning to open a restaurant that will draw all the boaters on the lake, keeping them from making it into town to eat at the Country Kitchen.”

  Dean would swear he could see a twinkle in her eye.

  “Why would I do that? A restaurant would be a headache and a half.” Then he realized he had no real hope of winning her judge and laughed. “Never mind. I got it.” He traced his thumb across her delicate wrist as he considered the possibility. “At least I have Edna on my side. I’m paying her in a way you can’t match—juicy stories.”

  “If only I weren’t so ethical,” Elaine said and kicked her running shoe against the rock. “I have all kinds of delicious, expensive stories that Edna would love.”

  “Too bad.” Dean rested their hands on his thigh and wondered if she even realized he was still holding her hand. “Since you called her fat, I’m sure juicy stories are the only thing that could save you now.”

  Elaine’s head whipped around, her eyes huge as she said, “I said what? No way. I wouldn’t.” She pointed to herself. “Good doctor here.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “She told you about her problem with her knees, I guess.”