Her Unexpected Hero--A Clean Romance Page 12

  When his phone rang as he pulled into a parking spot, Caleb shifted around to locate his cell.

  Senior was calling.

  Early on Saturday morning.

  That could only mean one thing: he’d seen Bailey Garcia’s report and he was displeased.

  Declining the call would not go well.

  Winter was leaning against the station wagon, no political signs in sight. A backpack was slung over one shoulder, and she was bundled in layers. Of the two of them, no one would have any difficulty deciding who the expert was.

  He held up one finger and pointed at the phone to ask for a minute. She nodded, but he wasn’t sure she was fully there. Her expression was distracted or thoughtful. Maybe she needed caffeine, too.

  “Yeah?” Caleb said by way of answering the call.

  The silence on the other end suggested his stepfather was seething with impatience. “Answer the phone politely, Caleb,” Senior snapped. “The news updates aren’t quite matching your status reports. Why are you letting reporters on the job site? I shouldn’t have to tell you—”

  “Ash Kingfisher has agreed to handle all calls from reporters. There was nothing in that report that was untrue, and it did match my status reports. I told you—next week, we’ll turn the corner. We’ll be caught up by then, and weather permitting, we’ll move ahead.”

  Why did he always struggle like a twelve-year-old called to the principal’s office in the face of Senior’s displeasure? Because his good opinion mattered and Caleb had never quite met the criteria.

  “Fine. Why do I suspect Winter Kingfisher had something to do with this reporter?”

  Because she had, but only indirectly. He wasn’t going to get into that.

  “Bailey Garcia was heavily involved in the battle over the lodge. It makes sense she’s not ready to let the story go, but Ash and I will handle it.” Caleb hadn’t yet followed up with Ash. That was on his list of things to do, though. Telling Senior he was going to go for a hike before he negotiated an agreement with the head ranger would not go well.

  “Fine. I don’t care what you have to do, but get the stories coming out of Sweetwater locked down. Whit’s not making any gains right now, so this is critical.” Senior sounded tired. “And your mother...”

  Caleb tipped back his head. “Mom’s okay, right?”

  “She’s fine. I just...” Senior’s pauses had always heightened Caleb’s concern, but when they were centered on his mother, his anxiety rose. “I’m more aware of time and how it passes now. Do you understand me?”

  The lump in his throat was instant. “So she’s not fine.”

  “Today she is, but days go by so fast. She has dreams for her sons. We’re going to make them come true, you hear?” Senior cursed under his breath. “I need you for this, Caleb. Whit needs to win this election, not the next one. We have no guarantees for the next one.”

  Caleb bit his lip. The urge to ask what his mother was dreaming for him, her firstborn, was stuck there, but he was afraid of the answer. What if the answer was nothing? Maybe he’d wasted too much time playing at what he enjoyed or his goals were too silly.

  But Senior was right. He could help Whit.

  “I’m about to meet with Winter now, Senior. I’ll make sure nothing else is coming out of Sweetwater, or it if does, it’s the story we want to tell.” He wasn’t sure how he’d manage it, but something in him wanted to exceed his stepfather’s expectations.

  “Good. Good. Thank you. You’ve stepped into a difficult spot here, so I appreciate your hard work.” His stepfather cleared his throat. Since that was the most emotional conversation they’d shared in a while, Caleb understood the urge. “If orders and threats don’t work, try charm. That’s something I never learned to use successfully.” His stepfather’s voice was gravelly. “Heaven help me.”

  Caleb blinked once or twice before he grinned. “The Callaway bar for charming is set pretty low, is that what you’re saying?”

  Caleb could hear a smile in Senior’s voice as he answered, “I’m saying you got charm from your mother. Both of my sons did. I definitely married up, convincing a woman like her to take a chance on me, but I’m smart enough not to let her ever regret it. Take my advice. Smart is good. Smart and charming is better.”

  They laughed together until Caleb said, “Gotta run. I’ll update you with the progress on everything tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing you all at dinner.” He ended the call and stared at his phone, gripped so tightly in his hand that the bite of the edges distracted him. Should he skip the hike and head home immediately? Senior sounded strained. Caleb missed his mother. Even talking to Whit seemed like a nice idea.

  But they’d asked him to do this, to keep an eye on Winter. Threats hadn’t worked. Neither had reason. Senior was right. Charm was a last-ditch solution but he’d give it a shot.

  Winter hadn’t moved from her spot in the sunshine next to her beat-up car. Which would be harder, climbing a mountain or charming Winter Kingfisher?

  No matter how hard the climb was or how completely unprepared he might be to keep up with her, he wouldn’t complain. His pride wouldn’t let him.

  Caleb grabbed the knit hat he’d tossed into the SUV at the last minute, his single concession to coming prepared, before picking up both cups of coffee and getting out of the truck. His breakfast was long gone, but he’d gotten the biggest to-go coffees Odella had. “Morning.” He offered her a cup and waited to see if she’d accept it. Any thawing of tensions between them would be nice.

  “I needed this.” Winter accepted the cup and sipped. A long, happy sigh was her response. “I don’t know how she does it, but Odella makes coffee like no one else.”

  “If you could find a way to bottle it, Sweetwater would rival Seattle as the home of good coffee.” Caleb sipped and held out his hand. “I’ll carry the backpack.”

  Winter snorted. “It’s mine. I’ll carry it.”

  So, no thawing then.

  “Discovering Odella, her coffee and her baking has been the highlight of my stay in town.” Caleb smiled at Winter, ready to win her over.

  Her sniff was a cold answer. “The campground diner has a breakfast to beat any restaurant you’ve ever eaten at in Nashville. Burgers at The Branch are solid. The pizza tastes good, but be prepared for heartburn the next day.” She covered her heart with her hand. “The new sandwich shop opening up on the corner of Main Street has bread that will make your mouth water. There are plenty of highlights.” She shifted the backpack and turned to stare up at the mountain.

  That was a literal cold shoulder.

  He couldn’t give up.

  “All I need is a friendly guide, someone prepared to help me make the best of Sweetwater.” Caleb sipped his coffee innocently when she swung back to face him.

  “In my experience, those are hard to find when you make it clear that your visit is a punishment,” Winter said sweetly and raised her eyebrows.

  Had he done that? Caleb considered the question as he cradled the warm coffee with both hands. Maybe. He certainly had viewed this assignment as a sort of sentence and hurried to reduce time served through good behavior, tight schedules and pushing his crews.

  Unsettled and a little guilty at the reminder of the men and women who were there to do a job, not prove a point or get out of jail quick, Caleb straightened. On Monday he should reevaluate his timeline.

  She finished her coffee and shifted restlessly. Winter had always struck him as a woman in constant movement. In Knoxville, she’d juggled the demands of the reserve, Whit’s campaign appearances and wedding planning. Then it had all stopped at once. How was she handling the town’s slower pace?

  Asking her that outright would only confirm her suspicion of his opinion of her hometown.

  “I’ve never been to the top. Is the climb tough?” Surely he could do it. He worked in construction. Sure, so ma
ny days that meant long meetings instead of physical labor, but he couldn’t let Winter show him up.

  “It’s not bad. The trail is in good shape all the way to the top, but it gets rougher there, lots of bare rocks that can trip up the unsuspecting or inexperienced, but that’s not where we’re going.” She pointed at a smaller opening at the base of the parking lot. “Buckeye Cove is where I want to take you. This trail ties The Aerie to Yanu Falls by skirting the edge of Otter Lake. It was originally a piece of a long trail the Cherokee used for summer hunting. Not even a century of forest growth has completely eliminated the trail worn by the hunters who traveled through here. Try to keep up.”

  Those were the last words she said before she stepped off the pavement onto a rough trail that wound through old-growth forest. If not for the sheer face of the mountain creating a natural boundary, clearing some of the spots on the trail would be impossible, but coverage of trees and warmth of the sun on the rock face of the mountain created a cozy pocket that meandered all the way down toward the water.

  If he could have managed to make conversation at that rate of speed, Caleb might have remarked on the pretty weather or the soft light breaking through the trees or the occasional birdcall that made a faint musical sound as he and Winter walked.

  But he could not.

  Talking would have required stopping and gasping for air for a minute.

  Winter seemed to have no time for that. At one point, he lost sight of her on the trail and realized this might be the place to commit the perfect crime. She could lose him in the wilderness to be eaten by hungry bears and not a single person would doubt that the city kid deserved what he got.

  Then her gleaming dark hair popped back into view. Over her shoulder, the ripples of a quiet cove of water gleamed.

  “Buckeye Cove. Named for the trees. My grandfather brought me and Ash here every summer to get us out of my grandmother’s hair.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “My grandmother always made room for us at her place when school was out because both of my parents worked, but going from no kids to two, one of whom wanted to watch The Princess Bride on repeat, got old quick.” She yanked a tarp out of the backpack and spread it. Instead of inviting him to sit next to her, she plopped down and he got the impression he could do whatever he wanted. Stay or go. Winter Kingfisher didn’t care.

  “Let me guess. Ash was the one with an affinity for Princess Buttercup.” Caleb eased down beside her and crossed his arms over his bent knees.

  “You know The Princess Bride?” She was watching him closely. “I find that hard to believe. Ash wouldn’t even claim to know it and he can recite whole sections word for word.”

  Caleb tilted his head to the side as he tried to imagine dry, stone-faced Ash Kingfisher reenacting a scene from the movie. He couldn’t do it. It was all too easy to imagine a young Winter as Princess Buttercup. Would she throw herself down a hill to find her true love? Not so much, but she would battle alongside him.

  “I have a good memory for trivia.” Caleb smiled at her. “Movies on repeat must be a universal way to torment older brothers.”

  Winter crossed her legs. “Maybe so. Did Whit do that, too?”

  “My last summer at home, definitely.” Caleb knew how well this was going to go over, but he had to say it. “Dumb and Dumber. That was the movie.”

  When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned to see her trying to hide a smile.

  “The jokes write themselves. I can’t make this up.” Caleb leaned back on his hands.

  “That explains so much.” She laughed. “Dumb and Dumber. How did I not know that?”

  That reminded him of his suspicion about their pretend engagement and marriage plans. Was he brave enough to ask the question?

  He’d never know until he asked.

  “It does seem like something a true love might know.” Caleb shrugged. “Or even a best friend.”

  She slowly turned her head to stare at him. “What does that mean? You’re questioning our friendship? Whit and I almost failed accounting together. That forms a bond real quick.”

  Why did the answer to the question in his head matter so much?

  “It isn’t the friendship I’m questioning.” Caleb held her stare for as long as he could. Then glanced away. “Are you determined to stop Whit because you don’t like his politics or because you’re heartbroken?”

  Winter huffed out an irritated sigh. “What difference does it make to you?”

  Good question. The only way to answer that truthfully was to say more than he should.

  “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. That’s why.” Satisfied with his answer, Caleb inhaled and exhaled slowly. Why did this feel important?

  She picked up a small pine branch and twirled it between her fingers. “Fine. I was hurt at Whit’s refusal to listen to me and angry at the way he turned on my brother. I lost my best friend in this and the career and the service I’d planned for my life. My heart is broken, but I’m not pining for your brother, if that’s what you’re asking. I want my old life back.”

  “Friends. Not true love, then?” Caleb asked, his voice low because this was a question no one else needed the answer to. “But you were engaged.” Why did this feel like a plot Senior might have pulled the strings to bring about? A masterful arrangement of two people for the best appearance. Whit had gone along with it, as always, and now Winter was the one putting her life back together. She deserved to be angry.

  “Friends who would have made marriage and mission work.” Winter broke off a small piece of the branch. “That’s more important than love.”

  Caleb knew his eyebrows shot up. He knew she was smart and capable, but he’d never expected to hear something like that. “Then why do we spend our whole lives searching for love?”

  Winter tossed the branch, but she didn’t answer. He should let the sunshine work its way back between them, buy some breathing room. This was the most beautiful place he could remember. Sitting here with her was comfortable, relaxing. His whole mood improved.

  “I gotta say...” He’d been experiencing the same relaxation every night while he stared out at the lake. Was this the place to confess it? “I can’t remember another place where I’ve felt this peaceful. Otter Lake has some kind of mystical reputation for peace, right?”

  Instead of answering, Winter rummaged in her backpack and pulled out a bottle of water. She offered it to him. “I knew you wouldn’t take my advice.”

  Caleb shrugged. “I would have if I’d had any water bottles. You’re the expert here, so I trust your advice. I also hate going to the grocery store. Janet’s kitchen came fully equipped, but filling the refrigerator is still up to me.”

  Winter pointed at the distant falls. This morning, they were a sluggish roll as the temperature warmed, but in the spring and summer, Caleb guessed they were a beautiful attraction. “My mother and father married at the top of the falls.” Then she turned and covered her eyes to stare in the other direction. “The reserve’s biggest success, the growth in the population of river otters, is thanks to all the work the rangers have done protecting habitats on Otter Lake. I could tell you about endangered species and federal studies on the park’s populations of bats and woodpeckers and bear and trout and...” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was following her.

  “I get it. The list goes on.” Caleb rolled the water bottle in his hands.

  “The list goes on. The land the Callaways have protected here is important because of all that, but that peace you mentioned? The healing that comes from quiet and Otter Lake? I don’t have facts and figures to prove that. You have to experience it. Like Cherokee hunters once did. Like my family has for generations.”

  “You have a connection to this place.” And she was amazing. Winter Kingfisher was the kind of spokesperson that lived and breathed the area. On this sunny, cool day, fresh-faced and with her hai
r gleaming in the light, she could be the photographic representation of health and peace, surrounded on all sides by the reserve’s blessings.

  “The thing about Otter Lake is that everyone can have a connection. Families return again and again, and the people who work here all contribute something of themselves to that.” She sighed. “I don’t know about mystical properties, but there’s something about this place.” She tilted back her head to expose her face to the sun. “My grandmother used to tell me and Ash, when we were worried about something or uncertain, to go to the water. This place. Things would get clearer.”

  Caleb sat up next to her, their shoulders rubbing, and he studied her face, her closed eyes and the small curve of her lips.

  “Got any worries, Callaway? Give ’em to the lake.” She didn’t glance at him, so Caleb faced forward. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  Meditation wasn’t his thing but something about the golden ripples of water settled him.

  And her company...

  Here, like this, he wanted to talk to Winter.

  “I was rushing to get the lodge set up because I had a chance to build a cool set of luxury homes, all the bells and whistles, lots of positive press coverage that would establish my company in a new circle. I was in a hurry. Impatient to prove myself. Sweetwater seemed to be too slow for comfort, but now...” Caleb watched the ripples. “I can only do one project. I was mad about having to let that other one go.”

  “Because of me, it has to be this one.” Winter crossed her arms tightly over her chest, shoulders hunched.

  She didn’t turn toward him so it was impossible to guess how she felt about that.

  “Not exactly. And I’ve already made up my mind to make this mine. Materials I want to use, Tennessee stone and timber. The house Janet renovated is proof that Tennessee stands the test of time and the right touch can blend yesterday and tomorrow.” Did he honestly believe that?

  Yeah.

  “I’m going to be proud of this when it’s done.” He would be. And if Senior wasn’t, then...