Authors: Shady Grace
She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I loved your mom. She always had a smile and a cookie for the lonely, little girl from across the street. What about your brother?”
“Kane’s married and has three stepdaughters. They live in the Napa Valley area.”
His hand lay on the tabletop, ring finger conspicuously bare.
“You’re not? Married, I mean.”
He shook his head. “Not even close. What about you?”
“I’ve been within shouting distance a couple of times.”
Leaning back in the booth, his gaze wandered over her face. The smile she remembered from the best time in her childhood grew.
“Those guys must have been crazy to let you get away.”
“Augusta’s right. You are a charmer.” She wadded her napkin and dropped it next to her salad bowl. “How are you, Jed? Tell me all about your life for the last—what—twenty-five years?”
“Sounds about right. I was ten, and you were nine when you moved.”
“Yet I still have vivid memories of following you around that summer. Apparently you leave a lasting impression on a girl.”
He took a final swallow of his shake. “If you’re finished with your rabbit food, let’s go somewhere to catch up. The day’s too beautiful to hang out in here. No fog or rain is a rare combination in the redwoods.”
“It’s not even very windy. We could drive through the woods to the beach.” She dug her wallet out of her purse then glanced over to smile before dropping a few singles on the table. “I can’t believe we met again, here of all places, after all these years.”
“Must be fate or destiny or whatever.”
Augusta lumbered out of the kitchen and headed toward the cash register. “If you’re finished, I’ll ring you up.”
Jed tossed a five dollar tip next to his empty plate as he led the way through the diner. When her steps slowed, he turned. “What?”
She gripped her purse a little tighter. “You’re not a serial killer on the run from the police or an escaped lunatic, are you? Going off alone into the forest with a relative stranger seems like something a dumb blonde in a horror flick would do. I may be blond, but I’m not stupid.”
His smile flashed. “Want to call Kane? He’s a small town sheriff. His endorsement should ease your mind.”
She let out a breath then continued toward the register. “I’ll take my chances and go with my gut. My gut tells me you’re a good guy.”
“That’s because I am.”
They paid for their meals, thanked the waitress then left the diner. Claire paused beside her compact motor home while he stopped next to an older SUV two spots over.
“Want to lead the way since you’re familiar with the area?”
“Sure. There’s a terrific beach not far from here. A twenty-minute drive at the most.”
He nodded. “See you when we get there.”
Claire backed out of the parking spot then turned onto the street. Heart thumping, she glanced in the rearview mirror. His SUV was right behind her. Pressing more firmly on the accelerator, she followed the highway through the tourist area of Shady Bend, past a gas station, a convenience store, several souvenir shops and a burl wood business into a thick grove of redwoods. Only a few rays of sunlight sifted through the trees, casting shadows across the narrow stretch of highway. She turned onto a rutted county road leading to the ocean.
Jed Lafferty—her first love. Not that he’d cared two shakes about the shy, scrawny girl next door. Although he might have felt sorry for her since he’d frequently let her tag along on his adventures. She’d peddled her heart out trying to keep up with him on his bike, endured skinned knees and elbows rollerblading down the steepest hill in their neighborhood and sprained her wrist bouncing off the trampoline in his backyard. Her family had moved to Reno late in the school year, and she’d never fit into any of the firmly established groups of girls in her class. Only when she was hanging out with Jed had she been happy.
A lot had changed in the last twenty-five years. She wasn’t a sad preadolescent, and he wasn’t an overactive little boy. Still, it would be interesting to see what he’d made of his life.
Turning into the sandy lot adjacent to the beach, Claire set the parking brake. When a thump sounded from the back of the motor home, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled.
“Did you have a nice nap…on my bed?”
Scoop yawned and shook then sauntered over to the door and plopped his butt on the mat in front of it. Leaning across him, Claire opened the door then waited for the dog to jump to the ground. She grabbed a windbreaker off the wall hook beside the table before following. Scoop walked over to a clump of waving sea grass and lifted his leg.
“Good God, what is that thing?” Jed stood next to his SUV, hands stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans, eyeing her dog like he might turn and charge.
“That
thing
is Scoop. Two years and one hundred pounds ago, he was a cute little rescue puppy. The shelter people weren’t sure about his breed, some cross between a boxer, a Rottweiler and a hound.”
“Interesting. Want to take a walk?”
“I’d love to. I’m stiff from driving all morning.”
Slipping on her windbreaker to combat the light, autumn breeze, she strolled beside him down to the damp, packed sand. The tide was receding, leaving salt residue on the beach as the waves surged then retreated. High above in the endless stretch of blue, seagulls squawked and circled. Scoop ran ahead before pausing to sniff a pile of seaweed. Claire took a deep breath of tangy sea air then let it out slowly.
“Looks like we have the beach to ourselves.”
She glanced his way. “I used to come here with friends for evening bonfires when I was in high school. The access road is crappy and unmarked, so not many tourists know about it.”
Hands stuffed in his pockets, he squinted against the sun. “So, you’re here to camp and visit your old stomping grounds?”
“Actually, I’m here for my job. I’m a nature photographer.”
“Oh, yeah? Someone pays you to travel around to beautiful places and take pictures?”
She grinned. “Pretty much. I work for a magazine called
Rugged America
.”
“I want to be you when I grow up.”
Her laugh set a flock of sandpipers running in all directions. “You look grown to me.”
“Naw. I’m just a big kid. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I ran a wilderness camping retreat. Not the most adult job in the world.”
“I’m not surprised in the least. The summer I lived across the street from you, you slept in a tent in your backyard most nights.”
“Houses are overrated.”
She smiled. “I don’t know about that. You’ll notice I have a motor home, not a tent. Where’s this retreat?”
“It is—was up on Donner Summit in the middle of the Tahoe National Forest. Unfortunately, the government chose to revert the land to wilderness, so the camp’s closed permanently and will soon be dismantled.
Stopping, she laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It was a good run, ten years, probably long past time for something new. In the winter, I work out of a ski rental shop offering backcountry skiing tours, so I have months before I need to worry about what to do next summer.”
“This is your off season?”
He nodded. “I plan to spend the next few weeks hiking and camping along the coast.”
“A busman’s holiday.”
“The best kind. Maybe we can hang out together while you’re here photographing trees.”
“Maybe.”
They stepped across a shallow stream running through the sand then continued down the beach. Up ahead, Scoop wrestled with a giant chunk of driftwood before dropping it to trot back to her side. Claire reached down to rub his ears.
“I’ll definitely be photographing trees, but that’s not the focus of my story. I got a tip from an old friend who still lives in the area. A member of a research group camping in the woods swears he saw a Bigfoot.”
Jed turned and stared. “You’re writing a story about a bunch of crazies?”
She shrugged. “Could be. I intend to take a lot of cool pictures in addition to documenting the group’s research. I’ll let readers draw their own conclusions about whether or not Bigfoot is real or a hoax. To keep the magazine’s core supporters happy, I’ll mix in plenty of information on the area’s flora and fauna along with spectacular photos. The Bigfoot angle is a twist to draw in a new group of readers. The marketing department is all over it.”
He grinned. “Claire Templeton, does the heart of a rebel beat beneath that proper façade?”
She glanced down. “What’s so proper about jeans and a T-shirt?”
“It’s the
look but don’t touch
aura you project.”
“Hmm. Is that why your hands are jammed in your pockets?”
He nodded. “It helps me resist temptation and maintain my good guy persona. I wouldn’t want you to think I grew up to be the sort of man who preys on lone, defenseless women.”
“I’m not defenseless. I took classes. Besides, Scoop isn’t just a pretty face. If you threatened me, he’d rip your arm off.”
“Good to know. I’m in favor of keeping that mutt happy.”
“You have something against dogs?”
“Only ones who look at me like I’m on the dinner menu.”
Claire didn’t blame Scoop one bit. The man was drool-worthy. She licked dry lips and turned when the beach ended at a rock cliff jutting into the water. They started back the way they’d come.
“Do you plan to camp with this research group?”
She glanced over. “Not right away, although I may spend the night out there at some point. I have an appointment with the director tomorrow, so I’ll know more after that.”
“I’d give my left—uh, arm to see a Bigfoot. Can I tag along?”
Pressing a hand to her mouth, she couldn’t hold back a giggle. “You sound exactly like the ten-year-old boy I remember. I’ll tell them I have an associate and ask permission for you to join me on any expeditions.”
“Hot damn!”
The giggle erupted in a laugh. “You know it’s all probably a big, fat farce, right?”
“Sure, but what if it isn’t?”
“What if Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are real?”
“If you’re such a skeptic, why’re you writing the story?”
“I’m writing about the process of hunting for a Bigfoot…and photographing a beautiful area of California. Anyway, I have an open mind.” She swept a hand toward the forested hills rising away from the coast. “Who knows, any number of things could be hiding out there.”
He reached over to snag her hand and squeeze. A tingle shot up her arm then fluttered around in her chest before moving on to heat her southern regions.
“This is great, Claire. Running into you just made my week.” His grip tightened. “Unless you want me to take a hike, so to speak? If you’d prefer not to have company, I’ll understand.”
“I enjoy my dog, but having someone around who talks back is better.” When he released her, she hesitated then stuffed her fist into the windbreaker pocket. “Okay, maybe not always better, but I’m looking forward to hanging out with you. Evening campfires should be a shared experience.”
He stopped when they reached the trail to the parking area. “You’re okay with continuing our get-reacquainted session at the campground? I don’t want to be pushy or assume anything.”
“You’re not. We’re both alone, so why not join forces?”
Brushing a strand of hair off her cheek, his finger moved in a soft caress. She held her breath until his hand fell away.
They turned together to walk side-by-side up the path from the beach, their arms touching.
“I like the sound of that. I’m pretty handy to have around camp. I promise you won’t regret teaming up.”
A hint of doubt crept to the surface. Once before, leaving Jed had broken her heart. She couldn’t help wondering how the woman she’d become would fare when they parted ways this time. Looking into blue eyes full of light and laughter, she shrugged. It was a risk she was more than willing to take.
* * * *
At last!
He straightened in his seat and started the engine as a motor home rolled through town with Claire in the driver’s seat and a big, brown mutt riding shotgun. With a smile stretching his lips, he pulled onto the street behind an older SUV.
She was finally here. As he’d hoped, the pull of a Bigfoot story was too strong for her to ignore. After waiting an eternity, they’d be together the way she’d promised all those years ago.
He was counting on her to keep her word.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he kept some distance between their vehicles then slowed when the RV pulled off the road into the lot of the supermarket on the far end of town. He edged up to the curb and parked. Turning in his seat, he held his breath as Claire stepped from the motor home and pushed the door shut behind her. Rays of late afternoon sun highlighted her beautiful blond hair.
The smile slipped from his face when she walked toward a man—one of those grunts who spent all his time in the gym from the looks of him—who slammed the door to the SUV that had been following her.
What the hell?
Claire wasn’t dating anyone. He’d kept close tabs on her over the last few months as the big day drew closer, and he was one hundred percent positive there was no significant man in her life. Surely she hadn’t picked up some guy on the drive to Shady Bend? One-night stands weren’t her style.