Incident At Elder Creek Page 2

  AFTER THEY FINISHED dinner, Jackie switched on the television to the news. The lead story flashed on the screen, an update about a young woman missing from the town of Portero, about eight miles from Elder Creek.

  During the commercial break, Jackie said, “It’s kind of scary that something like that’s happened so close to us.”

  “It’s true. I imagine people are pretty unnerved by it. I don’t know what the world’s coming to with all the killing going on and people going missing.”

  “It’s happening more and more, isn’t it?”

  Tucker agreed.

  They focused their attention back to the screen as the news resumed. When the news turned to politics, Jackie switched the TV off. “Sometimes politics almost makes me sicker than killing and kidnapping does.”

  “I know what you mean,” Tucker said.

  Tucker insisted on helping Jackie clean up the kitchen. It felt good to do something physical, to think of the mechanics of doing mundane tasks. When they were done, Jackie claimed she needed some exercise and she wanted to walk Tucker back to the National.

  Tucker said, “I suppose it won’t do me any good to say I’m a big girl and can get back to the hotel by myself.”

  Jackie lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  Tucker sighed. She always enjoyed Jackie’s company, and right now, Jackie’s presence made her feel more grounded. She chuckled and said, “I withdraw the comment.”

  As Tucker put her leather jacket on to leave she said, “By the way, Jackie, I can’t find my denim jacket. I might have left it at the bar. Will you check on it?”

  Jackie gave her a look of concern as she put her own coat on. “I’ll look in our lost and found box tomorrow,” she said as she held the door open for Tucker.

  The walk helped loosen Tucker’s sore muscles and cleared her head a little more. As they headed up Main Street toward the hotel, fragile autumn leaves crunched under foot, reminding Tucker of the brittleness she felt inside.

  “Have you decided what you’re going to do about the house?” Jackie asked.

  “Do? What do you mean?”

  “Well, Leah asked me about it. She wondered if she should be looking for a new place to live since you’re back in town and staying at the hotel.”

  Tucker stopped. She looked at Jackie, eyes wide. “I wouldn’t put somebody out of their home for my own convenience, Jackie. You know me better than that.”

  “Well, it is your house.”

  “I know. But like I said, I wouldn’t put her out. I’m thinking I might want to buy something else and keep mom’s house for a rental anyway. I’ve been looking around. I—I’m not sure what I want to do yet. I’m thinking I might buy some property and put a log home on it or something. I heard there’s some land for sale up on Tenderfoot Hill. You know I love it up there. I might go take a look. Anyway, I’m definitely not throwing Miss Hudson out.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be relieved to hear it. She also told me she’s not sure what she should do about the rent. She said she used to mail you a check when you were in Phoenix, and she wondered if she should drop it off at the hotel or not.”

  Tucker sighed. “I guess I’d better stop by to see her tomorrow.”

  “That’s probably a good idea, Tucker. It’s time you two met, anyway.” Jackie gave Tucker a look she didn’t quite understand. In her frame of mind, though, she decided not to ask Jackie about it. She didn’t need anything else to worry about.

  They walked on in silence. Yes, Tucker would have to have a conversation with the old woman who lived in her childhood home, her mom’s house until she passed away a few years ago.

  For goodness sakes. I’d never put her out of the house. She’s probably got it all decorated with doilies and lace. She’s been an ideal renter, paying like clockwork. She’s got a good job as the school librarian over in Portero, too. The kids probably love her like a grandmother.

  Tucker said, “How’s she fitting in with our little community? I heard she volunteered to serve on the committee to revitalize the town. She’d probably be a great help with the research because of her line of work.”

  “It didn’t take long for her to become one of us. As a matter of fact, it feels like she’s always been here. She’s a lovely person. We’ve become pretty good friends.”

  As they strolled on in silence, visions of her friend sitting among Leah Hudson’s lace and doilies, drinking tea from fine China cups poured from a matching teapot materialized. Maybe they wore hats with big flowers and lots of frou-frou netting on them. The image tickled Tucker, and she found pleasure in knowing Jackie befriended the woman. Maybe Tucker would like her, too. Frilly things weren’t Tucker’s style, but if Jackie liked her, there must be something affable about her.

  When they reached the hotel, Jackie said, “I’m glad you’re back, Tucker. I’ve missed you. I was thrilled to hear you decided to come back and head up the committee to convert the town into a living history site. We need you. Elder Creek needs you, and I need you back in my life.”

  Jackie hugged Tucker and strode toward home. Tucker stood at the entrance to the hotel, watching her until the darkness swallowed her up. “I’m glad to be home, too,” she whispered. “I only wish I knew if I should be concerned about losing my mind or not.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, Tucker approached the house on Yankee Hill Avenue and an unexpected wave of emotion washed over her. Memories flashed before her in quick succession: growing up in the house with her mom, coming home from school and finding her mother curled up in bed, depression overtaking her ability to function. It wasn’t always like that. Sometimes, when she felt better, her mom was fun, nurturing, kind, a real parent to Tucker. But when depression overtook her, Tucker took over as caregiver in the relationship.

  Later in life, medications helped her mom, but they affected her personality. The balance teetered. They adjusted. Life went on. In the end, mental issues didn’t take her mom’s life. Instead, her heart gave out.

  Tucker grieved and moved on. She was living in Phoenix with a girlfriend who eventually proved to be unfaithful. So with the house rented to Leah Hudson, Tucker stayed in Phoenix until she realized there was nothing more there for her, and when the call came asking her to head up the revitalization project, she packed up and came back to Elder Creek, knowing she was ready to return home.

  She reveled in having a reliable renter in the house. She probably would have found it difficult to live there now, anyway. She looked forward to something new on a plot of land she called her own, one with some space around it and plenty of room to breathe. As she climbed the steps of the porch, she acknowledged Miss Hudson would have a home for as long as she wanted to stay, maybe for as long as she lived, depending on how many years she had left.

  Before she raised her hand to knock, the front door swung open. The woman standing there took Tucker’s breath away. Blonde waves framed her face. Tucker watched as the other woman registered surprise. Wide eyes stared back at Tucker—eyes so blue they looked like a clear, bottomless sea.

  Who was this beauty, Tucker wondered? A friend of Miss Hudson’s? A housekeeper? A relative, perhaps?

  “H-hi,” Tucker managed to stammer. She cleared her throat, willing her nervousness to disappear, only partially succeeding. “I’m Tucker Stevens. I’m looking for Miss Hudson.” She craned her neck, trying to look into the living room around the young woman. “Is she home?”

  The woman’s surprised look vanished. She thrust her hand out toward Tucker. “Tucker, it’s great to meet you. I’m Leah Hudson. Please, call me Leah.”

  Tucker stared at Leah’s hand. When she finally overcame her own surprise, she wiped her hand on her jeans before grasping Leah’s.

  “I—I’m pleased to meet you. You—I mean, I—you—you aren’t who I expected.” Oh, for goodness sake, I’m a blithering idiot.

  Leah lifted an eyebrow. “Who were you expecting?”

  “Um—” Tucker looked down at her cowboy boots and scuffed a foo
t against the painted porch board. “I guess I was expecting someone, well, maybe a little older?”

  Now Leah lifted the other eyebrow. “Do tell. Why would you think that?”

  “Well, um—” Tucker removed her ever-present cowboy hat. For some reason, she felt like she needed to do so in Leah’s presence. She rolled the brim around in her hands, glad for something to do. When she finally looked into Leah’s eyes, she saw them sparkle like bright blue crystals, full of mischief.

  Leah’s expression changed again. This time she feigned a look of disdain. “Oh, not the old lady librarian image. You can’t be serious.”

  “Well...”

  “You do know that’s a horrible stereotype, don’t you?”

  “Well...” Every time Tucker said it, her voice squeaked a little higher. Her cheeks burned. “I’m sorry. I formed this picture of you from the rental application. You know, your job at the school, wanting a quiet place to live instead of living in Los Angeles. The application didn’t allow for a date of birth, because of discrimination and all. I’m—I’m sorry.”

  Talking is good—maybe. It’s helping me get over the initial shock—and the instant attraction pulling at places I’d rather not think about right now. Good grief, what’s happening to me? My libido’s out of control and I’m losing my mind. Great. Just great.

  Leah laughed. Tucker felt butterflies flutter in her stomach. She knew she would love Leah’s laugh until she died—possibly from embarrassment—which might be any minute now.

  Tucker suddenly realized Leah opened the door without her knocking. “Uh, were you on your way out? I’m sorry. I delayed you.”

  “It’s okay. I was on my way to check the mailbox. It can wait. Why don’t you come in?” Leah opened the door wider and stepped back to allow Tucker entrance into the hallway.

  Tucker hesitated as she looked past Leah. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, maybe more old memories, which might prevent her from entering. She felt nothing but the joy of meeting this lovely woman, though, so she thanked Leah and stepped inside.

  Some of the furniture looked different. The pictures on the walls were different. Nice. Pictures of forests and waterfalls. One of the ocean—near Mendocino, maybe—and there wasn’t a doily in sight. Tucker heard Leah in the kitchen, adding ice to glasses, pouring the offered lemonade. Tucker spoke up from her seat on the couch in the living room, ensuring Leah heard her.

  “I hope you’re happy here at the house, Leah.”

  “I am. I love this place.” More clinking, then she added, “I moved a few pieces of furniture out to the shed. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t bring much with me, but I brought in a few things of my own.”

  “Not a problem. I’m glad you’ve made yourself comfortable. The house looks nice.”

  Leah entered the room carrying two glasses and offered one to Tucker.

  “Thank you,” Leah said.

  “And you like working at the school in Portero?”

  “Yes. I love the kids. They’re so much more—” Leah searched for the right words, “—innocent and eager to learn. It’s so refreshing. The children in LA have to grow up so fast. I think something happens when they aren’t allowed to mature at the slower, more natural rate like the kids in this area are able to do. And I’m much happier myself. This is exactly what I was looking for when I came up from LA.”

  “Looking to get out of the rat race, right?”

  “Correct. Looking for something a little more sedate, calmer. Elder Creek is perfect. I love the foothills. They’re so beautiful and peaceful.”

  The deep blue of Leah’s eyes mesmerized Tucker as she listened to Leah.

  Leah took a sip of her lemonade and Tucker realized she had stopped talking. Tucker cleared her throat and said, “Well, Jackie told me there was some concern about my wanting the house back. Let me assure you it’s not true.”

  Tucker saw Leah breathe out. A sigh of relief, no doubt.

  “Thank you for letting me know. I was a little concerned. As you said, I’ve made myself very comfortable here. I’ve found a piece of the contentment I was looking for.”

  “Only a piece?” Tucker asked.

  “There may be something more to enable me to have everything I’ve dreamed of, but for now, I’m good. What about you? What will you do? I’m sure you don’t want to spend the rest of your life at the National Hotel.”

  Tucker chuckled. “You’ve got that right. I’m in the process of making plans. I don’t quite have them all worked out yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “I hope the hotel isn’t too expensive.”

  “No. It’s not a problem. They gave me a good discounted rate since I came back to work on the revitalization project. I’ll stay there until I find what I want. I’m thinking about a nice plot up on Tenderfoot Hill if I can get it. I think I might put a log cabin on it.”

  Why did she feel the need to pour out her dreams to this woman? She didn’t know her from anyone, but she was so damn easy to talk to. The thought made her nervous again.

  She cleared her throat and said, “I probably shouldn’t bore you with all this. I wanted to make sure you knew you’re welcome to stay in this house for as long as you like—and I’m sorry about the misunderstanding—about the librarian thing. Um, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  Leah laughed. The butterflies fluttered in Tucker’s stomach again. She felt uncertain. Was it because of her discomfort with her earlier gaffe about Leah’s age?

  When Leah spoke, Tucker wasn’t prepared for her next remark.

  “It was a rather unfortunate assumption on your part, Miss Stevens, but I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you make it up to me. Meet me at The Charlie for dinner. You’re buying.”

  Tucker felt a thrill run down her spine. Then, she felt something else—terror. Was Leah asking her out? This beautiful, amazing woman wanted to have dinner with her? Tucker Stevens? The bumbling idiot who assumed she was a doting old lady who decorated her house with doilies?

  “I’m sorry,” Leah said. She looked down at the floor, her cheeks tinged pink. “It was probably inappropriate of me. I’ll take it back if you want. Let’s pretend I didn’t say it.”

  “No! I’d love to make it up to you—with dinner, I mean.”

  Tucker’s heart pounded so loudly, she was sure Leah heard it. Maybe it didn’t matter if she was an idiot. She was an idiot Leah, apparently, was interested in. She certainly wouldn’t deny she found her attractive and easy to be with.

  What the heck. Might as well. “What time shall we meet?”

  Leah’s face brightened with a big grin. “How about six o’clock? Does the time work for you?”

  “Fine,” Tucker said. “Shall I meet you there or would you like me to call for you up here?”

  “Don’t we have a meeting this afternoon at the city hall?”

  “Oh, I nearly forgot.”

  She was certain Leah possessed the ability to make her forget everything.

  “You’re on the revitalization committee. Shall we go over to The Charlie afterward?”

  “I’d like to, Tucker. I’d like it very much.”

  The butterflies slammed against Tucker’s stomach, harder this time. Leah smiled at her and brought her lemonade glass to her lips. Tucker picked up her glass and slammed down the drink as if it were pure whiskey. It didn’t calm her nervousness, not like the real thing would have.

  She looked into the deep blue of Leah’s eyes. It didn’t help the butterflies at all.

  Tucker croaked, “I’d better—” She stopped and cleared her throat, then tried again. “I’d better get going. I have some preparation to do for the meeting. I’ll see you there.”

  Leah smiled. “Yes. You certainly will.”

  Tucker tried to keep her hand steady as she stretched toward the table and put her glass down. “Thanks for the lemonade—and for the invitation. I’m looking forward to it. Dinner, I mean.”

  She got up and started toward the front door. Her legs
felt weak, but she managed to keep from weaving like a drunkard. Leah walked with her.

  Tucker put her hand on the doorknob and said, “Again, I’m so sorry about my blunder.”

  The mischievous smile returned. Leah laughed but said nothing. She picked up something from the hall table and handed it to Tucker. “The rent check,” she said and laughed at Tucker’s repeated apology.

  Tucker stuffed the check into her shirt pocket and tried to keep the pained look from her face. “I will make it up to you.”

  She stepped out onto the porch and watched Leah lean against the door frame, arms crossed. She looked so sexy, so far from Tucker’s original image of Leah Hudson.

  “Indeed, you will,” Leah said. A hint of teasing framed the phrase. Her eyes twinkled when she said it.

  As Tucker walked down the porch steps toward the street, she thought, you are losing your mind, Tucker Stevens. You’re crazy—and now you’re acting crazy smitten. This can’t happen. If something’s truly going on in your head, how can you even think of getting involved with someone like Leah Hudson? She’s way out of your league, even on a good day.

  TUCKER PUT HER hand out to open The Charlie’s door and felt sparks jump from the metal push plate to her fingertips. She shook off the pain. The scowling face of Nigel Dunbar loomed in her mind. Should she even try to enter the saloon? The back of her neck prickled with fear. She hoped when she walked through the door she found Jackie behind the bar and not some stringy-haired, unshaven miscreant.

  She raised her hand to the door again, slowly. This time, there were no sparks. She let out the breath she’d been holding and shoved the door open. Trepidation filled her until she saw Jackie, and she breathed a sigh of relief. As she took a step toward the bar, Jackie poured a mug of Twigs root beer and smiled.

  “How’s it going, Tuck?”

  “It’s going well now that I see your shining face.”

  She gave Jackie a strange look and shrugged one shoulder, trying to indicate the underlying meaning—no Nigel Dunbar and the accompanying unidentifiable distress and anxiety he brought her meant everything was fine for the moment.