Even after I had my purse and wallet in my hand—it was exactly where I’d left it on the lawn—and made sure everything that was supposed to be there hadn’t been taken by a crazy squirrel and a wily beaver, I walked to the lake at the back of the property, between the house and the wood line.
Maybe the reflection I’d seen was nothing more than a tree. Maybe it had been an optical illusion. Either way, I wanted to see if it was there again. If I could prove to myself that what I’d seen were trees and shadows, then I wasn’t crazy, there was no truth to the shifting, and things could go back to normal.
I walked back to the pier in the lake at the spot where I thought I might have been standing and looked down. The only thing looking back at me was me. Didn’t that figure? The trees were too far back to cast a reflection here. Dang it.
But it was quiet and here, maybe I could sort my thoughts and pick real life from fiction. Taking off my sandals, I sat down. A little breeze came off of the water, lowering the temperature by just a few degrees. And yet, it felt nice. Refreshing even. I could see why a rich person would build a giant home here. There was just something about the place I found relaxing. I dangled my feet over the side, big toe touching the water, and watched as the morning sunlight sparkled off the backs of the fish in the water and gave a magical glow to the surface of the water.
“Who the hell are you?”
I startled and twisted around, grasping the side of the dock to keep from spinning straight into the water.
A man was walking toward me. The voice was old and grizzled and it belonged to a mountain of a man. Or maybe he was just a mountain man. Either way, he was huge and had a gray beard sprinkled with black that went halfway down his chest. His skin was tan, ridiculously so, like he spent every day under the sun’s powerful rays. A quick way to get cancer, that.
He stopped a few feet closer to me than was socially acceptable and crossed his arms over his massive, flannel-clad chest as I stared up at him, shocked. A deep frown etched into his features. They seemed to harden the longer we looked at one another.
My gaze went from his gray hair, which would have benefitted from a comb and gel to tame the wild curls being flipped by the slight breeze, to his startling pale blue eyes. And lower, to his shoulders, which were as wide as the house behind him. From where I was sitting, anyway.
Should I be worried? Was this the kind of security Esther had out here by her lake? Or was this guy some kind of weirdo?
“I’m a friend of Esther’s.” And to my credit, my voice made an actual sound despite the raging nervousness churning in my gut. At least I’d managed not to squeak.
“No, I’m a friend of Esther’s. You’re trespassing on private property.” His voice was the sexiest rasp I’d ever heard.
Sexiest? No.
Well, yes, but it didn’t matter. He was a threat. I could have been a blind woman and still, I would’ve known he wasn’t here to make nice or extend the friendship branch.
“I’m Bethany. You can ask Esther.” Strong, confident voice. Good job, B!
“You’d like it if I left you alone here so you could escape instead of facing justice for trespassing.”
I didn’t know who this guy was or why he cared about me being in Esther’s backyard, but he was hulking out, so much so I thought his flannel might split apart. As far as intimidating went, he was a pro. Yet instead of being truly scared, I was more truly irritated. How dare he assume?
Still, there was only one way he was letting me out of here, and it wasn’t so much as letting me as me forcing the issue. At least that’s what a tiny voice in the back of my mind whispered.
So, I climbed to my feet, heart racing, and slid into my sandals, all while not taking my eyes off of him.
“It was a nice day for a walk.” I stumbled over my words, lamely, my bravado from a few seconds earlier disappearing.
His eyes narrowed.
An awkward laugh exploded from my lips. “And it’s always nice to meet more neighbors.”
“I’ve never seen you around,” he muttered, his mouth pulling into a thin line.
Oh, hell. Being nice wasn’t working. I guess it was time for Plan B.
I feinted left, dodged right, and when he went to block the dodge, I gave him a shove and he tilted, arms pinwheeling like a… for lack of a better word, pinwheel, and then he fell into the water. I ran like a woman with a pack of wolves—for all I knew, that’s what he was—tracking her across the yards.
Behind me, an angry shout came from the water, but I didn’t pause. I just kept on running.
Take that, mountain man!
And that was how I found my backbone.
CHAPTERTWELVE
After my encounter with Grizzly Adams or Davy Crockett or whoever the crap he thought he was, I made it home and hid behind the curtains for a while until I was sure the coast was clear, and he hadn’t followed me. My backbone had only gone so far. In retrospect, I should’ve just told him I was picking up my purse after the Fascinators’ bunco night and maybe given a bit of explanation to keep him from getting all riled up.
