The Family Gathering
“Misdeeds?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Cal said you were a decorated soldier.”
“I just about undecorated myself before it was all over,” he said. He scratched his beard. “I guess I should get a haircut. Do I need to lose the beard?”
Tom laughed. “This is Colorado, man. You look homegrown.”
“Good. I’ve grown kind of attached.” He grinned. “So to speak.”
“I’ll find out what they’re hiring for and get you an application.”
When he went home from Sully’s after a productive day, he found Cal in his home office, just hanging up the phone.
“So, you’re still here,” Cal said. “It’s been five days. I think that’s a record.”
“Am I getting underfoot?” Dakota asked.
“I’ve hardly noticed you,” he said. “You feeling underfoot?”
Dakota shook his head, leaning against the door frame.
“Baby bothering you?” Cal asked.
“The baby is kind of awesome,” Dakota said. “I’m not babysitting, however.”
Cal laughed. “We managed before you arrived, we’ll continue to manage.”
“So, what if I hung around?” he asked.
“What if?” Cal returned.
“Would that be weird for you?”
“Nah. I actually like you. Sort of.” Then he sobered. “You’re welcome here, Dakota. And thanks for helping Sully. It’s appreciated.”
“Everyone was helping him get the grounds ready, but I think now it’s going to rain. For days.”
“That’s what I hear,” Cal said. “Every March the rain comes, every March Sully gets the campground ready for summer. Well, spring and summer. We all help out. It wasn’t expected of you, so thanks. Now what?”
“Well,” he said, scratching his chin. “I’m going to get a haircut, trim the beard a little, get a job, look for a place to live...”
“I’m not throwing you out,” Cal said. “If you can live with Elizabeth, you can stay here. The rent’s cheap.”
“Elizabeth is a hoot,” he said. “I thought I’d rent something because it’s what I do. That doesn’t mean I won’t hang out with you sometimes.”
“This sounds kind of long-term,” Cal said.
“For me,” Dakota clarified. “A few months, anyway. I like the Crossing, the trails, the lake, the people. Seems like a good place to collect my thoughts.”
“We’d love it if you were close,” Cal said. “Listen, you okay here by yourself for a few days? It’s time for Maggie to go to Denver again. Three to four days a week she operates and sees patients. She has a babysitter there but I don’t have any clients or court appearances so I’m going along this time. I won’t be back unless someone calls and needs me.”
Dakota laughed and ran a hand over his head. “All this flexibility is giving me a rash. I’m used to a strict routine.”
“Fine,” Cal said. “Have a strict routine, that won’t bother anyone. But Maggie and I have Elizabeth and two careers. Not to mention Sully and a campground. Just let me know if you’re going to be around for a meal, that’s all I need from you. Well, that and if you’re going to stumble in at 3:00 a.m. and make me get out the rifle because I think someone’s breaking in. That would involve communication, Dakota. You haven’t exactly excelled in that.”
“So I’ve been told,” he said. “You have my cell number, right?”
“You have enough money to rent your own place? Because I—”
“I got it,” Dakota said. “And I’ll be sure to call so you can throw another potato in the soup.”
Cal was quiet for a moment. “It’s been good. Having you around,” he finally said.
“I’ll do my best not to screw that up,” Dakota said.
Cal, Maggie and Elizabeth left very early in the morning for Denver. If Dakota understood things correctly, Maggie would go straight to work, seeing patients all morning, then operating all afternoon, then repeating that cycle again and again. One week it would be three long days, the next week it would be four days. Once a month she would be on call to the emergency room, adding a fifth day to her cycle. And Cal, a criminal defense attorney, was seeing clients in his home office or other meeting places—the diner, the Crossing on Sully’s porch, the bookstore—and for anything from wills to real estate deals. Once in a while he actually got someone out of jail. Dakota filed that information away in case he needed it.
That left Dakota on his own for a few days. And as Sully had predicted, it rained. And rained.
He dropped into a real estate office and picked up a flyer of local rental properties, then headed for a haircut. He looked up and down the street and found that the barbershop was closed so he dropped in to the beauty shop. Fancy Cuts. He stepped inside the door and spied six chairs and three clients with hair stylists. He flashed that million-watt smile of his and said, “I’m not looking for anything real fancy, but can you handle a head and a beard left unattended awhile?”
Less than a moment passed. A beautiful young woman took a step toward him. “I’ve got this,” she said confidently to the other stylists, both older women. “Give me five minutes. Have a seat.”
She went back to her client, an elderly woman whose hair seemed to be a mass of pink sausages. “You can’t be done in five minutes,” the client said a bit more loudly than necessary.
“Oh, yes, I will,” said the beauty. “And you’ll love it.”
“Well, it better not be—”
The stylist applied a brush and went to town. She fluffed out the woman’s hair, did a little backcombing and shaping, sprayed some spray.
Dakota picked up a magazine and idly paged through it. Good oral hygiene had never served him better. In five minutes he was in the chair with the beautiful Alyssa running a comb casually through his dark hair. “What are we doing with you today?”
Dakota was suddenly conscious of how long it had been since he’d had sex. “Nothing special,” he said. Up against the wall work for you? “Just trim it up, and can you trim the beard? Not Hollywood, just not Duck Dynasty.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, showing him a brilliant smile of her own. “Let’s start with a good shampoo. Right this way.”
He didn’t mention he’d already done that in his morning shower but instead let her lead him to the back. While she massaged his scalp and quizzed him, he just let his eyes close gently. He had a brother not so far from here, he said. He was just out of the Army and planned on exploring the country a little, starting here. He liked to fish and hike. He wasn’t making any plans for a while. He was deliberately vague. This was a small town. He didn’t want to do or say anything that might reflect badly on Cal or Sierra and all those attached. Until he got the lay of the land, he’d be a little mysterious.
But her fingers in his hair felt amazing. “You married, Alyssa?” he asked in a soft, smoky voice.
“Still waiting for the right guy, Dakota,” she whispered back. “Do you have a lot of friends around here?” she asked, smothering his head with a towel and leading him back to her station.
“My brother’s friends,” he said with a shrug. “A few nice people.”
“No girlfriend?”
He met her eyes in the mirror. “No girlfriend.”
“I take that to mean there’s no wife or fiancée, either?” she asked.
He shook his head, feeling like great sex could be minutes away. It was a feeling, not something he’d act on. This was Cal and Sierra’s town. Hit-and-run wouldn’t work. The repercussions could make life difficult for people he cared about and he wouldn’t risk it. But this Alyssa, long-legged, beautiful, friendly, ready—this held great promise. He might have found himself a woman to pass the time with. It was worth considering. And it was worth slowing down and using caution.
“You know your way around a pair of scissors,” he said, looking in the mirror. The haircut was excellent; the beard was looking good.
“You okay with the gray?” she asked. “Because if you’re not...”
“I think it’s fine,” he said. “I earned every one.”
“That’s good, because I like it. It’s very attractive.”
“Are you buttering me up for a good tip?” he teased.
“You’re kidding, right? Since you’re new to the area, could you use someone to show you around?”
“That might come in handy,” he said. “Right now I have somewhere I have to be. Maybe you’d trust me with your phone number?”
“Sure,” she said. She waited for him to get out his phone, then rattled off the digits. “I’d be more than happy to. This is a great little town. Full of possibilities.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Well, Alyssa, thanks for a good job. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
He paid in cash; the tip was excellent. He put on his jacket, turned the collar up and walked out into the rain. He went down the block and across the street to the diner. Sierra was working today. He’d have lunch and show her his flyer of rental properties.
Dakota took a booth at the diner and let Sierra wait on him. He ordered a bowl of soup, half a sandwich and a coffee. It wasn’t long before Sierra slid into the booth with a slice of blueberry pie.
“Is that for me?” he asked.
She looked at it for a second. “Yes,” she said. Then she went back behind the counter and got another slice of pie, making him laugh at her.
“You’re so thoughtful,” he said.
“I am,” she said. “In the early summer we have rhubarb pie and rhubarb cobbler. I think this year I’m going to learn to bake.”
“When are you going to learn to get married?” he asked. “Seems like six months ago Connie asked us all if we would give consent and I guess I thought...”
“Well, you old fogy, you.” She grinned at him. “We keep meaning to plan something. Hey, Cal’s gone, right? Connie’s off tonight. It’s going to be cold and rainy. We’re having a fire and soup. Wanna come over?”
“I don’t know. Is there any nightlife around here?” he asked.
“Yeah—at our house. Fire and soup. Connie’s cooking. It’s amazing. Firemen are excellent cooks. Maybe if you’re very good, we’ll put on a movie. Or play a board game.”
He gave her a steady look. “I don’t think it’s going to take me long to get really bored.”
“You coming?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug.
Blood is thicker than water.
—GERMAN PROVERB
2
DAKOTA HAD LOOKED at three potential rental properties after lunch. They were adequate but a little large for just one guy and none of them felt right. He made an appointment with a property manager for the next morning and he looked at four more rentals. The last one was in the country, about ten miles from town. The cabin had a nice big porch. It was on a hillside and a creek ran past. There was a small bridge crossing the creek. “The creek swells in spring and early summer,” the agent said. “It was built as a vacation cabin. The owner liked to fish. He claimed the fishing was good in that creek.”
Dakota asked if they could go inside. It was a decent size, probably nine hundred square feet. There were two bedrooms, one medium-size bath, a galley kitchen and a nice big table, sofa and chair all in the great room. There was no TV but there was a desk. “Does it come furnished?” he asked.
“It can,” the agent said. “The owner is deceased and the heirs are letting it go. Our office is managing the property for now. We’re prepared to remove what you don’t want, leave what you can use. There’s no washer or dryer.”
“I hate doing laundry,” he said, smiling at her. In fact, he had both a brother and a sister with machines he could borrow. And there was always commercial laundry. “How much?”
“It’s pricey,” she said. And indeed, it was more than the larger houses he’d looked at. It was quaint. Rustic. There was a stone fireplace. The appliances looked fairly new, maybe a couple of years old. “It’s kind of isolated,” she said. “The water heater is new, the roof is in good repair, everything in the kitchen is functional. Even the ice maker.”
He didn’t say anything. He just walked around, touching the leather sofa, opening the kitchen cabinets. He lay down on the bed. He wasn’t sure about the mattress yet—it might need to be upgraded. He’d brought only clothes and vital papers with him to Colorado. It looked pretty well stocked. Based on what he saw, he could fry an egg, microwave a meal, dry off after a shower. He could get himself a small grill. He might trade out the linens for new but it was in good shape. Better than some Army quarters he’d stayed in.
Then he stepped back outside onto the porch. There, on the other side of the creek, he saw deer. A buck, a couple of does and a very new fawn. One doe looked ready to give birth. He looked around the porch. “It needs a good chair.”
“There isn’t one but you could pick one up pretty cheap.”
“I’ll take it,” he said.
There was a rental agreement to sign and the property manager had to run him through a credit check. Fortunately, he knew his credit was excellent, and even though he’d been in the brig and stood a court-martial, he learned when he purchased the Jeep that his military incarceration didn’t show up in civilian records. “You just tell me when you’re ready for me to sign papers. You have my cell number.”
He was oddly euphoric about this cabin in the woods. A man could sit quietly on that porch and watch nature, watch wildlife. He imagined that in the dark of night he would hear wildlife and in the morning, birds. He would be busy because he liked being busy, but he would thoroughly enjoy relaxing in a small, isolated cabin. He’d like sleeping there. He’d like listening to the rain there.
He hadn’t really imagined this scenario—that he’d come to Colorado and get his own place and be within a short drive of family. Actual family. He thought he’d visit, check them out, maybe stay a little longer than was typical for him, then press on. But then, maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He’d left his Army family. Where else would he turn? Even though Dakota was independent, he liked having people in his life. There had always been soldiers. He took good care of them, they took good care of him.
And something had changed with his siblings. Or with him. For the first time he considered them friends, not just family he was stuck with. He’d never been good about keeping in touch and the Army had always provided him with plenty of excuses. If he didn’t feel like checking in with them, then the Army, he could say, had other plans for him and he couldn’t get away. At the moment, for whatever reason, he wanted to be around them. Could it be they’d finally all grown up?
He went to the bar and grill in town for lunch. It looked like the bartender was just coming on duty. She was tying on her apron and talking to another employee, nodding vigorously and smiling. The man put a hand on her shoulder as she tied the last knot in the apron. Then she washed her hands and went behind the bar. “How can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“How about a hamburger, fries and Coke.”
She flipped the menu around for him. “I have seven burgers for you to choose from. We’re famous for them.”
“What’s your favorite?” he asked.
She pointed to one of the burgers. “The Juicy Lucy with bacon and pickles, hold the onion. The cheese is on the inside. That’s my meal.”
“Thanks,” he said, squinting at her nametag. “Sid?”
“Sid,” she confirmed. “Short for Sidney. And how would you like that burger cooked?”
“Medium,” he said.
“Excellent,” she said. Then he watched her go to her pay station to punch his order into the computer.
This was his first visit to this pub. It was all dark wood with red leather bar stools and booths, red leather chair seats at the tables. It wasn’t real big but he assumed they could pack ’em in at happy hour. He took the menu and looked through it. The bar was open from eleven to eleven, no breakfast menu. They probably rolled the sidewalks up around here at nine every night. There was nothing fancy on the menu—just burgers, flat bread pizzas, salads, ribs and miscellaneous bar food. They did have a kids’ menu. And chili.
The bar was beautifully crafted, with an ornately carved back wall with a mirror so he could admire himself. He chuckled and took a drink of his Coke, but he was watching Sid. She greeted everyone. One older couple, probably in their seventies, came into the pub and she leaned across the bar to give them each a hug, laughing with them. Everyone knew her, it seemed. And she presided over the bar as her domain. He watched her laughing and talking while throwing together two tall Bloody Marys for her elderly friends. She put them on a tray and walked around the bar to serve them at their booth. She chatted with them for a moment.
Relatives? he wondered.
She brought him his lunch. “It’s going to be hot,” she said. “Enjoy.”
He was immediately disappointed. She was gone so fast.
He took a bite of the hamburger, burned his mouth but wouldn’t let on. He closed his eyes, chewed slowly and swallowed. When he opened his eyes Sid was standing there, smiling at him.
“Burned your mouth, didn’t you?” she said.
He nodded clumsily. “How could you tell?”
“Your eyes. Tears. Slow down, buddy. I’m not going to take it away from you.”
And then she whirled away again. She served up a couple of sodas, two beers and a glass of wine. But she came back.
“Well? How is it?”
“Outstanding,” he said. “As you know. But I would have put a couple of jalapeños on it.”
She tilted her head, thinking about that. “Not a bad idea. I skip the onions so I don’t drive away business.”
“This is a popular place,” he commented, making conversation.
“It’s almost the only game in town. We don’t compete with the diner—they’re better for breakfast, pie, soup, hot meals like roast beef, meat loaf, chicken pot pie. Home cookin’.” She smiled.
“Well, you’re right about the burger. Damn near burned my tongue off,” he added with a laugh. “You seem to know everyone.”
She gave the counter a wipe. “That takes about three days around here. And you’re not from around here.”
“I’m visiting,” he said. “I have some family nearby but today was a good day to look around. Have you been here all your life?”
“Unlike most of the population, no. Not from around here. Born and raised in South Dakota, worked a few years in California and now I’m here for a while.”
“We have that in common,” he said. “What’s ‘a while’ for you?”
She shook her head absently. “It’s been a little over a year so far. I didn’t plan that.”
“What’s holding you?”
“Besides the clean air, views, weather and people?” she asked with a lifted brow. “This is my brother’s place. I intended to help out for a little while, but...” Another shrug. He understood that—his future plans were full of shrugs, too.
“Your brother has a nice little place,” he said.
“So, where do you come from?” she asked.
He stopped himself from wincing. He’d have to remember to ask Sierra and Cal if everyone knew they all grew up in a bus. “I’m fresh out of the Army. I’m going to take a little time to decide what’s next. I’m going to see if there’s any work around here to keep me while I think it out. Like you said, lots to like around here.”
“Army? That’s a big commitment.”
“I went in as a kid,” he said. Then he picked up his burger to avoid explaining any more to this completely pleasant bartender.
“Well, if you like the outdoors, you’ll enjoy your stay.”
A woman sat down at the bar, leaving just a stool to separate them. “Can I get a chicken Caesar?” she asked Sid before Sid even had a chance to greet her.
“You bet. Anything to drink?”
“Water,” she said. And then she was texting on her phone.
He didn’t turn on his stool to look at her, but as he ate his hamburger he caught sight of her in the mirror behind the bar. She was very beautiful, her mahogany hair falling forward as she concentrated on her phone. He bit and chewed, and as his eyes moved just slightly left, he caught sight of Sid, but she shifted her gaze quickly. It made him smile. She was watching him and everyone else. She might have wanted to see how he reacted to the woman beside him.
He looked at Sid. She was in her thirties, he guessed. Her long hair was blond. Or reddish blond. She had that freckly pale skin of an Irish lass. She was quick, physically and verbally. And she didn’t flirt, but she was friendly. Or maybe neighborly was a better word. She treated him like she treated everyone else in the bar.
He was almost finished with his burger by the time Sid placed the salad in front of the woman at the bar. She shook out her napkin, placed it on her lap and picked up her fork. Then she looked at him and smiled. “Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry, I should have been more polite and said hello when I first sat down.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said, picking up a couple of fries. “You were busy. Texting, I assume. Our world’s great new communication tool.”
She laughed lightly. “Actually, checking social media. It’s a convenient way to stay up-to-date on friends and events, et cetera.”
He just nodded and chewed. He’d been able to avoid indulging in the big social media machine. He was guilty of communicating by texts and emails, however.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before,” she said. “I’m Neely.”
“Dakota,” he said, giving her a smile.
“Passing through?” she asked.
He tilted his head and gave that now-automatic shrug. “Visiting,” he said. “I have a brother not far from here. You?”
“Me? I’m a new resident. I have a couple of business interests in town but I actually live in Aurora, not too far from here.”
“Is Aurora a nice place to live?” he asked, shifting the discussion from him.
“It is,” she said, dabbing her lips with her napkin, leaving red lipstick stains on the white cloth. He glanced at Sid and caught her again, watching. “I couldn’t find anything around here I liked but there’s more to choose from in Aurora. And there’s more to do, more restaurants, more shopping, a little more culturally upmarket, more of everything. But then, Timberlake is more of a sportsmen and ranchers and tourists kind of place. Of course, the population is much larger in Aurora. So,” she said, spearing some salad. “Married?”
He chuckled. That was direct. “No,” he said. And he didn’t volley the question back to her.
“And how do you make a living, Mr....?”
“Dakota is fine. I’m just out of the Army. I have an interview with the county. I’m thinking of maybe picking up trash. I hear the benefits are excellent.”
There was a sound from down the bar but Neely didn’t appear to have heard it. Dakota knew where that had come from. Sid was amused. He was sure she’d snickered.
“Sounds like dirty work,” Neely said.
“I hear they give you gloves,” he said. Then he asked himself why he was doing this. She was bold. Bolder even than Alyssa. He must be giving off some kind of scent—available man who is in dire need. “The pay is good,” he added. “And that’s why we have showers.”
“And I’m sure it’s temporary,” she said.
“And how do you make a living?” he asked, and immediately regretted it.
“I’m into a lot of different things. I’ve been lucky. I’m invested in a few businesses and properties. And that, my friend, turns out to be a full-time job.”
“I’m sure,” he said.
“Isn’t this the best little bar?” she asked, to which he agreed. And she commented on this being the best time of year. She asked him if he liked to hunt or fish and he said he hoped to do some of that. She told him, between bites of her salad, that she was reading the most wonderful book about fly-fishing in Montana and she couldn’t believe how much it made her want to try it. He answered her superficial questions without giving away too much personal information. He did not offer to teach her fly-fishing. He didn’t elaborate on his connections here. Until he knew what was going on all around him, he didn’t throw out information.
But he noticed things. She wore very nice clothes—knee-high boots and a brushed-leather skirt. A red sweater that showed off a nice figure. A shawl rather than a jacket. Her watch was expensive looking but he was no expert on women’s jewelry. She had model-quality makeup. And the nails...