Timber Creek (Sierra Falls 2)

Not half-bad at all.

Sudden butterflies made her stomach flutter. She had to look away, shoving another bite into her mouth, and took in the view instead. A small meadow spread out before them, peppered with ragged grasses and wildflowers and ringed with pine trees. Mountain peaks loomed in the far distance.

He breathed in deeply, squinting against the low sun. “Pretty, huh? It’s why I bought the place. ” He pointed to the distance. “I own all the way to that fence there. ”

She shielded her eyes and realized that sure enough, beyond the meadow, there was a basic wire-and-post fence. “What’s that for?”

“I’ve been meaning to get a dog. Thought a fence would come in handy. ”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Gotten a dog?” He shrugged. “I guess I always hoped I’d meet someone, and it’d be something we could do together. You know, go to the shelter, pick out a nice mutt. ” He turned his attention to his plate and took a giant bite of pasta, looking a little embarrassed. It was a sight she didn’t see often.

“I’ll bet those kids would like it. If you brought a dog on your camping trips, I mean. ”

He chuffed out a laugh. “I’ll just bet they would. Not a lot of dogs in Reno’s low-income housing developments. Not nice ones, at any rate. ” He got a distant look and a faint smile, like he was remembering something. “On my very first trip, one of the little guys chased what he thought was a lost dog into the brush. ”

“Was it?”

“Nope. ” Using a heel of bread, he swabbed up the last of the sauce on his plate. He popped the bread into his mouth and shook his head as he chewed and swallowed. “At first, I didn’t know what it was. And of course I had to chase after the kid—I mean, I guess it’s possible it could’ve been someone’s stray dog, but I panicked, thinking of all the other stuff it might be. Rabid raccoon. Injured fox. Wildcat. Hell, it could’ve been a bear cub. ”

She raked up more spaghetti, realizing she’d been holding her fork in midair, listening raptly, wondering where this story was going. “So you chased af

ter some boy, knowing there might’ve been an angry bear waiting for you. ”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “Of course. ” He wiped his hands on his napkin and tossed it on the table. “When we’re out there, those kids are in my care. But there were no angry mama bears. ”

“Thank God. ” She waited a beat. “Well…what was it?”

He smirked, looking like he was debating telling her. “Skunk,” he said finally. He laughed then. “I dove into that brush after the kid, and damned if that skunk didn’t spray me right in the face. I stank for a week. Whoever said tomatoes remove the smell was never tagged in the face at point-blank range. Tomato sauce, tomato juice—I bathed in the stuff. All it did was make me smell like an Italian skunk. ”

She was laughing, dabbing tears from her eyes, and it felt so good. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d belly-laughed.

He made a face like he was put out of joint, but she saw the humor in his eyes.

She patted his hand, playfully consoling him. “But you didn’t let Pepé Le Pew win, did you? You’re still going out and braving those woods. ”

“Don’t you mean, braving those kids? But yeah, damn right I’m still going. Only now I do all my wildlife instruction in the van on the way over. ” He tilted his plate, swabbed clean of tomato sauce, muttering, “Took me months before I could look at a tomato without gagging…”

She laughed and mashed the last bits of meaty sauce in the tines of her fork. “I for one am glad you and tomatoes have made peace. This was really good, Eddie. ”

“It was nothing. ”

“Burned patties are nothing. But turning them into this? That’s MacGyver caliber. ” She sipped her wine, thinking how for every question Eddie answered, she found five more popping up in its place. “Do you cook a lot?”

He shrugged it off. “I’m all right. I can grill a steak. Feed myself. ”

“That’s more than I do,” she muttered. It occurred to her that he’d have to cook for a lot more than just two on his trips. “What do you feed the kids when you camp?”

“I make easy stuff. I’ve got a Sterno, and food keeps pretty well in ice chests. It’s not so hard. My monkey bread is always a hit. ”

The light in his eyes as he’d said it made her believe he truly got something from the trips.

“Monkey bread. ” She grinned. “I haven’t had that since I was little and Dad took us to Big Basin to see the redwoods. Look at you…I think you enjoy the camping. It’s not just for the kids, is it?”

“Sure, it’s for me. Watching them in the woods for the first time, it kills me. These kids have had it hard. Some of them have been busted for big-deal stuff, too—especially the older ones. Concealed weapons charges. Drug stuff. But then they get out there”—he waved to the mountains along the horizon—“and they’re blown away that you can live off the land. That a man can actually walk into the woods with no cell phone and no gun, not even a cigarette lighter, just walk in there and then walk back out, a week later if he wanted, alive and well. ”

He swirled the wine in his glass, shrugging like it was no big deal. “It’s all about self-sufficiency. Personal responsibility. Keeping calm and informed. The man stuff that every boy needs to learn. That’s what I try to teach them at least. It’s what Jack taught me. ”