Harmony Cabins (Finding Home 2)

“You’ve really never been fishing?”

“Never.” The cork grip was comfortable in her hand. What kind of metal was the handle made of? Graphite?

“You’ve led a sheltered life.”

“Perhaps.” Audra examined the aluminum reel and nylon line. “Don’t people go fishing to relax? How hard could it be?”

“Right.” He collected the cooler, walked to the door, and held it open for her. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.” She led him outside. The fishing rod felt light in her fist.

Jack watched her check the locks on her front door. “Afraid the bears will steal your guitar?”

“If they’re like you, they’ll just lurk around in the bushes waiting to scare me half to death.” She walked past him and down the porch steps.

Moonlight eased the velvet darkness. Their footsteps, crunching over the graveled path, battled back the thick silence. Trinity Falls was foreign from her life in Los Angeles. L.A. was full of traffic noises, crowds, and artificial lights. But after four days, Audra was used to the quiet here. Perhaps Benita was right, as much as she hated to admit it. This alien environment may be what she needed—and not just to bring back her creative muse. She felt reinvigorated by the silence that blanketed her at night, crickets that sang her to sleep, and the fresh forest scents that filled her lungs.

“Where are we going?” Why am I whispering?

“To the lake.”

Audra jumped when Jack responded in a normal voice. “Why did we have to come out so early?”

“Why didn’t you ask me that last night?” There was humor in his voice.

“I was afraid if I asked too many questions, you’d change your mind.”

“I still might.”

Audra allowed the silence to resettle. Any further comments might be considered questions. She couldn’t risk Jack canceling their outing. Each step that brought her closer to the lake ratcheted her excitement.

Finally the lake came into view. Jack stopped a distance from the whimsical bridge and shrugged off his backpack. He opened it to withdraw a wide, faded blanket, which he spread near a large maple tree that must have guarded the lake since the dawn of time.

He waved her closer to him. “I’ll show you how to set your lure.”

More than fifteen minutes later, the sun had stretched into the sky. Birds had gathered for their morning meeting. The temperatures had risen. But Audra still hadn’t baited her fishing rod or cast her line. She glared first at the uncooperative worm substitute, then Jack.

He shrugged. “‘Don’t people go fishing to relax? How hard could it be?’”

Audra’s brows lifted to her hairline. He was giving her words back to her. “I miss the grumpy desk clerk.”

“He’s right here.”

Audra didn’t think so. The humor in Jack’s eyes so captivated her that she forgot more than half of his face was covered by hair.

She tugged away her gaze to check her watch. It was after five in the morning. “Why do people fish for relaxation? This isn’t relaxing.”

Several minutes later, she’d finally baited her line. Frustration roiled anew when it came to casting it.

“Come on. You’re almost there.” Jack’s warm, strong hands covered hers, guiding her through the motion.

Audra was ready to return to bed by the time their lines were cast. She settled beside Jack on the blanket, mimicking his pose: legs crossed, both hands on the pole. “If I had to fish to survive, I’d starve to death.”

Jack threw his head back and laughed. Audra gaped. He used his right index finger to lift her chin and close her mouth. “You’ll collect flies.”

“I’m sorry.” Audra’s skin was still warm from that single touch even after his hand had dropped away. “There was a time I didn’t think you ever laughed.”

In a blink, his smile disappeared as though it had never been there. “I haven’t had a reason to.”