15 Summers Later, page 8
Or her “marriage” that had lasted less than a day, to a man she abhorred.
She had loved Cullen Brooks with her entire heart, from that very first night. That he had fallen for her as well, Ava had considered nothing short of a miracle, a rare and priceless gift from a capricious God she thought had abandoned her a long time ago.
You should have told me everything, Ava. How do you think I felt reading about all these things that happened to my own wife? Things I had no idea about, things I should have known from that first night? It is a huge part of what makes you who you are and you never told me anything. I have to wonder if the woman I thought I married ever even existed.
“Would you...want to grab a coffee?” she asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the desperation in her voice. “Leona tells me the food truck over there sells a good blend. The scent has been drifting over us all morning and it does smell delicious.”
He shifted his gaze to the group of food trucks selling everything from homemade empanadas to freshly pressed lemonade.
“I don’t have time. Luis will be looking for me. We still have to finish our grocery shopping and head back to the site. We have a new crew of student volunteers showing up this evening.”
“Okay. Um. Will you be coming through town again soon? We could...meet for lunch or something.”
“I’m not sure. I really don’t have a set schedule yet. I can’t commit to anything.”
At least that wasn’t an outright no. He had suggested they take a break while he was working at the dig. Her following him to Idaho and hounding him to meet up the first chance he had probably didn’t exactly qualify as a break.
“How’s the excavation going?” she asked, desperate to keep talking to him.
His features lit up and a smile even played at his mouth. “Amazing. Better than we expected. It’s a nest of some kind but the fossilized bones don’t really fit the pattern of the usual dinosaurs found in this area. We might be on to something big.”
She was happy for him. He had worked so hard and so long for this opportunity. “I’m so glad it’s working out. You must be thrilled.”
“Yes,” he said, his features still bright. As he looked down at her, her mind filled with memories of all the evenings they would sit together at their small kitchen table with their laptops. She would grade papers or work on her thesis, the work that eventually became Ghost Lake, and he would prep lesson plans or go over research documents.
Sometimes she would look up from the screen to find him watching her with the expression of a man who had been given everything he could ever want.
She wanted to cry, suddenly, and had to fight back the tears.
“How long will you be staying with Leona?” he asked.
She debated how to answer him. Should she tell him how much she had hated even a few nights by herself in the apartment, how the rooms echoed with emptiness?
“Right now my plans are open-ended,” she finally said. “My summer break seemed like a good opportunity to spend some time with Grandma and Madi.”
Of course, Madi currently wasn’t speaking to Ava but she decided not to mention that small detail to Cullen.
“I’ve talked to the Fosters next door about collecting any packages and forwarding mail,” she went on.
He nodded, looking as if he had much more to say. Instead, he looked at his watch.
“I should go.”
“Right. Okay.”
He gazed at her. “Maybe while you’re here in Idaho so close, you could come up to mountains sometime and check out the site. It’s pretty rugged in parts. You’ll need a Jeep or an all-terrain vehicle to get all the way there. You could park down below and I could come get you in the side-by-side.”
Panic fluttered through her. She knew exactly where the site was. About a mile away from the actual Ghost Lake.
She hadn’t been back there since the night she had drugged James Boyle with valerian root and mountain deathcamas Madi had found, on the rare occasions they were allowed out of the camp to bathe in the creek.
That had been the same night she and Madi had crept away through the darkness, braced for the instant when the dogs that had been cruelly trained to attack would be let loose on them.
She forced a smile, trying not to shudder. “Maybe,” she said, hoping her expression didn’t betray her deep reluctance.
“I need to go,” he said again. He hugged her, the gesture awkward and stilted, then he was gone and her heart cracked apart a little more.
There was a time not very long ago when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
They used to try to coordinate their return from their respective campuses.
She usually arrived only moments ahead of him. She eagerly waited until she would hear his key in the lock, for that moment when Cullen would open the door, set down his battered messenger bag beside the comfortably battered armchair and pull her into his arms with a deep, heartfelt sigh.
As if she were his moon, his stars, his everything.
Cullen had been hers.
And she had been his.
All day as she tried to teach sentence structure and literature to largely disinterested middle school students, she would anticipate the seconds until they would be together again, when she would feel his strength around her and smell that masculine soap on his skin and the cinnamon mints on his breath as his mouth covered hers.
Her breath caught and more tears rose in her throat.
“Are you all right, darling?”
She looked up to find Leona watching her, eyes brimming with concern.
“Yes,” she lied. “Fine. I just...wasn’t expecting to see Cullen this morning. I didn’t realize he would have to stop in town for supplies periodically.”
“You never know what will happen at the farmers market. That’s one reason I love having a stall here so much. Embrace the unexpected. That’s what I always say.”
Ava had never once heard Leona say that. Her grandmother had plenty of other pithy adages.
Don’t be afraid of an honest day’s work.
Live in the moment.
Say you’re sorry, but only if you mean it.
Embrace the unexpected was a new one. She appreciated the sentiment, though in reality, facing the chaos of change had never been easy for her.
Ava had always struggled with new things, even before that year when their world had been completely upended.
She was a long way from embracing the unexpected.
“You look wilted, dear. Like a daisy in a rainstorm. Do you need to sit down?”
“Yes. That’s probably a good idea,” she said. The busy scene around them spun as Ava sank into one of the blue canvas lawn chairs she had helped carry to the booth.
Again, she thought that she should have tried to eat something for breakfast, even if the thought of food right now made her stomach twist.
“Can I get you something? We’ve got a couple of scones left.” Leona’s voice was soft, tender. Ava suddenly wanted nothing more than to rest her head against her grandmother’s ample breast, close her eyes and weep.
“I’m okay,” she lied. “I only need a moment to catch my breath.”
“At least have something to drink,” her grandmother ordered.
That adage hadn’t changed. Drink more water had been another of her grandmother’s mantras.
Leona handed over Ava’s insulated water bottle, ice clinking. She wanted to gulp it down but forced herself to sip, knowing too much cold water on her empty stomach probably wasn’t the greatest idea.
He wanted her to come visit him.
Near Ghost Lake.
She sipped at her water, wondering how she would ever find the courage to go back there.
“Here. Eat a scone,” Leona pressed. “It’s cranberry lemon, my favorite. My friend Agnes makes them and they’re so delicious.”
Ava still wasn’t hungry but she forced herself to take a bite. The pastry melted in her mouth and helped settle her stomach a bit, she had to admit.
“There. You look better. Not so pale, anyway. I thought you were going to pass out.”
“I didn’t eat anything this morning. I’m sure that was to blame.”
“Is that so?” Leona looked doubtful.
“Yes. My blood sugar probably dipped.”
“Right. Well, finish that and you can go back to the house and make yourself an omelet or something. I can handle the rest of the market.”
She was slightly ashamed at how tempted she was by the suggestion. Her grandmother’s house offered a calm and peace that always seemed to embrace her when she walked inside.
She wouldn’t. What good would come from trying to hide away from the world so she could grieve for the marriage she might have destroyed?
“I’m fine. I feel much better now. The scone helped. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Though taking a rest and putting your feet up would probably be even more helpful.”
Ava shook her head. “You’re almost sold out of everything. We shouldn’t be here much longer. I’ll stay to help you carry everything back to your car.”
Her grandmother looked as if she wanted to argue but she only shook her head, eyes worried, as she turned back to greet another customer.
9
The world beyond the compound is a kaleidoscope of overwhelming sensations, vibrant colors of a world we had almost forgotten.
—Ghost Lake by Ava Howell Brooks
Madison
The drive out to the Lancaster sheep farm the next morning was quiet and lovely, with bucolic views and few other cars on the road.
The sun was beginning to crest the mountains when Luke picked her up in the vet clinic pickup truck. She handed him a go-cup of coffee, which he accepted gratefully.
“Thanks. How do you always seem to know when I forget coffee?”
“Maybe I’m psychic.” She smiled, though it really didn’t take any sort of extrasensory perception. He was always forgetting to turn on the coffee machine at his place the night before. He usually slept in and didn’t have time to brew it in the morning.
“You must be.”
“Lucky guess. Even if you already had coffee, I figured you might need extra this morning. You’re not used to partying late into the night.”
“Right. I’m such a stodgy old man these days.”
“I didn’t say that.” She sipped to hide her smile. “I meant you don’t spend a lot of time hanging out at the Burning Tree. You’re out of practice.”
“I’m not that out of practice. And it’s not like I partied until 3 a.m. anyway. I was home by eleven and sound asleep by midnight.”
She had not been asleep by midnight. Instead, she had spent a restless night. Somehow she couldn’t seem to get the memory of dancing with him out of her mind.
He turned on a gravel road that led to the Lancaster farm. Morning dew gleamed on the fields around them, glistening in the sunlight like scattered gems. Some of the neighboring farmers had already cut their first crop of hay and it still lay in geometric rows, waiting for the balers.
Madi knew if she rolled down the window, the air would smell of cut alfalfa, new leaves and earth, fresh and clean and dearly familiar.
“What time did Nicole wander home from the bar last night?” Luke asked.
“Shortly after one.”
She didn’t think it appropriate to inform Nic’s brother that when Madi had been awake to let out her dogs around that time, she had seen her roommate making out in the front seat of a Jeep that had a roof but no doors.
“She seems to be getting along well with the new river rat. What’s his name again? Houston? Dallas?”
“Right state, wrong city. I believe his name is Austin.”
He sighed. “Right. Dallas was a few years ago, right?”
She didn’t remember all the names, but it wouldn’t surprise her.
While they both dated widely, the main difference between them was that Nicole was hoping to find lasting love with one of them while Madi only wanted a nice, temporary guy who was fun and charming and, most important, didn’t treat her like all the local guys did. Like she was some kind of fragile figurine who would crumble into dust if someone touched her.
“Are you coming to my mom’s place for dinner tomorrow?” he asked. “I was supposed to ask you yesterday and I forgot.”
“It’s on my calendar. I was planning on it.”
The big Sunday dinner was one of the highlights of her month. Tilly was an amazing cook and the meal was always wonderful. The company was even better. She and Leona weren’t the only strays Tilly invited. There was usually a revolving door of friends or relatives, both local and from out of town.
“I don’t know Leona’s plans for sure, though,” Madi said. “Ava is with her now, so who knows?”
He sent her a sideways look across the cab of the pickup truck. “Ava has an open invitation from my mom. Your grandmother can bring her along if she wants to.”
She gave him a polite smile, fighting the urge to cross her arms across her chest and sulk like his young niece did if the marshmallow she was roasting fell into the fire.
“That’s fine. Tilly can certainly invite anyone she wants to. Just as I can choose with whom I want to spend my Sunday afternoon.”
“Are you saying that if Ava goes, you won’t?”
She remained stubbornly silent and he gave her another sideways look.
“Don’t ask my mom to choose between you and your sister. That’s not fair. She loves you both.”
She glowered at him, annoyed that he once more seemed to treat her like a pesky little sister.
“Tilly doesn’t have to choose between us. If Ava is going, I will choose for everyone by skipping it.”
He frowned. “You’re being unreasonable, Mad. If your sister plans to enjoy an extended visit with Leona here in Emerald Creek, chances are good you will have to spend time in the same room with her at some point. You can’t avoid her all summer.”
“I can sure as hell try,” she muttered.
He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again as they pulled into the driveway of Lancaster Sheep Farms, a low-slung house surrounded by barns and silos.
Paul Lancaster trotted out to greet them, wearing his traditional denim overalls and plaid shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. In his late seventies, Paul was a hardworking farmer, who along with one of his sons, ran a herd of around five hundred sheep.
He was meticulous and fussy and preferred to have vaccines administered by the veterinarian rather than do it himself or have his workers handle it, like most producers did.
He greeted Luke with a handshake but only gave Madi a stiff, rather cool nod, something dark crossing his expression so quickly, she wondered if she had imagined it.
Odd. She and Paul usually had a cordial relationship. He was friendly with her grandmother and always seemed comfortable enough with her as well.
“We’re ready for you, Doc. Glad you could make time for us. We’re about to take the herd up to our summer grazing allotment. We’ve got our herders in place and the trucks are coming this afternoon.”
She knew he moved his sheep to the mountains during the summer and that transporting them was always a big production.
“Good thing you remembered your lambs need vaccinating before they take off for the hills,” Luke said mildly.
“In the old days, your dad used to call me when it was time for the boosters.”
Luke’s jaw tightened for a brief instant. How difficult it must be for him to constantly be compared to his father. Yes, the previous Dr. Gentry had been a wonderful veterinarian, from all she had heard of the man, but Luke was amazing, too. He shouldn’t have to constantly prove himself to the people of Emerald Creek.
“Yes, I checked on that after you called yesterday. According to our records, we mailed a reminder postcard three weeks ago that it was time to schedule, but they can be easy to miss. I’ll make a note in your chart to have the office staff give you a call next year.”
“Thank you. Appreciate that.”
Without further ado, he led them around the barn to a large pen where around a hundred ewe-lamb pairs milled.
She loved seeing the lambs, so gangly and adorable.
With the herders and Paul’s help, over the next hour, they were able to separate the lambs and drive them through a chute to where Luke could quickly check them each out for disease or injury, vaccinate them, then return them to the pen where the ewes bleated in confusion and concern.
Madi’s job was mainly to hand him the next vaccine and discard the used one. Nothing too demanding, which gave her time to watch Luke’s gentle competence with the animals as well as the drama playing out as the lambs were returned to the pen.
She was invariably amazed at how the ewes were able to effortlessly find their own lambs in the crowded pen. She saw a few stray lambs who weren’t immediately reunited with their mothers, but things were soon sorted.
Paul Lancaster joined them as Luke was putting away his medical bag and removing his surgical gloves.
“There you go. That should cover you for now.”
“Thanks.”
They chatted about the herd’s upcoming trip to the mountains as Paul walked them back to Luke’s truck.
Only when they reached the pickup did the old farmer turn to Madi.
“I hear your sister is back in town,” he said bluntly, without a segue, as if he had been stockpiling the topic and now realized he had almost missed his chance to bring it up.
Madi could feel herself tense. “Yes. That’s right.”
“That book of hers. Why’d she have to go and stir up all that ugliness again? She ought to have let sleeping dogs lie.”
Madi couldn’t disagree with the man, though she knew they had very different reasons. It must be hitting very close to home for him, she suddenly realized, annoyed with herself for not connecting the dots earlier.
