She shook her head. “They won’t mind, but?—”
“Good, because I know about where we are on the lake. Might even be able to figure out the mile marker if I walked down to the dock.” He motioned for her to get out of the truck. “Come on. Let’s go see.”
Her insides shouted stay. Her heart and soul and future shouted go with him. “I’ll just wait here.”
In turn, he shrugged. Grinning, he pointed to his chest then walked his fingers in the direction of the lake. Reaching out toward the rail as if he were going to vault it and drop to the ground below, he suddenly stopped. His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows pinched together, and he stooped to touch the corner of the parking pad. Evidently, he’d noticed the letters in the concrete.
He slowly stood, looped his thumbs in his jean pockets and stared at the lake. “Care to tell me who owns this property?”
After powering up the window, she stepped out of the truck’s passenger door. A few steps later, she leaned against the front side fender of his truck. “My parents bought this lot the year before my dad was shot and killed. I own it now.”
Without saying a word, Cain slowly walked over, leaned back against the front grill of the truck and braced his right foot against the fender. A few seconds later he cocked his elbows back to rest on the hood. Quieter still, the two of them stood there, seemingly lost in their own thoughts as the sounds of nature lulled them into the chill of winter.
The aroma of woodsmoke from a neighbor’s chimney drifted on the breeze. After time in the snow or just walking in the cold, she’d always loved a woodburning fireplace to warm up by. Her idea of a perfect winter evening was a cup of hot chocolate and a good book in front of a fire.
“Jeez, it’s cold.” She shivered as she shoved her hands further into her pockets. “I don’t mind winter when it first comes. I’m getting tired of it now.”
“Do you want to head back home?”
“No. Not yet.” How could she explain why she’d come here today? Why she ever came to the vacant lakefront lot? Sometimes she left with her answer…sometimes not. Either way, she always felt more at peace. More confident. More energized.
Today, though, she wasn’t even sure why she’d asked to come. Sitting in the truck, in his backyard, she had already realized there was only one answer to whether she’d stay at his house or not. Sure, she’d asked Cain to bring her, but she knew he wouldn’t let her out of his sight today. She even agreed with that reasoning, but she never asked for help for herself. Her top priority was to always take care of Sadie, Marcy and Summer, even when they told her to back off. Thankfully, they were out of town and safe for the moment.
Her second priority was herself, and right now, with no idea why, she was in deep trouble. But one thing she did know was that she needed to trust someone to help her, and that nagged at her deep inside.
She didn’t like to depend on anyone. She made her own way in life. She owned her mistakes. Owned a whole lot of mistakes…and misjudgments, but she’d walked through them without relying on others.
Along the way there’d been a few times Sadie and Marcy had pushed their way into her trouble. Which, in the end, had landed her mama and sister in trouble of their own.
Not Summer though. Her six-years younger sister had always been distant to her as she grew up, which was to be expected with the age difference. Betsy had hoped that since Summer was twenty-six and a college graduate now, they could become closer. More like actual sisters, instead of…what? Just what were they to each other? A few months ago, when she had offered unsolicited advice to Summer about how to live her life, she’d hit a brick wall.
Suddenly, Betsy felt frozen in place and time and emotions. Lost and alone with no one to blame but herself. When had she quit caring about others? No! Others were the only ones she cared about.
“Well, will you look at that?” Cain yanked off his hat and gloves. “The sun has decided to show its face after all.”
Stepping into a patch of sun, she turned her face upward. “Oh, that feels good. Nice and warm.” She glanced at Cain. “You’re right. Let’s take a walk down to the dock.”
“Sounds good to me.”
On the way down, she pointed out where trees had been taken out that first summer. Explained how her parents, especially her dad, had wanted it to be the best view around. They didn’t have money to build a house, but that hadn’t stopped them all from sketching and brainstorming and dreaming about what it would one day look like.
“The tree removal and dock were our first projects that spring.” She stepped onto the wooden slats of the narrow dock and immediately felt the thrill of the first time she ran all the way from the shore to the end and jumped in. “We spent almost every weekend here at the lake that summer.”
“What was your favorite part?”
“Swimming and fishing.”
“That sounds like what I’ve always liked about the lake, too.”
For the next fifteen minutes or so, without any effort at all, the two of them talked about fish they’d caught and the ones that got away. Her sunburns and freckles. His ability to tan in less than a day. About the dives they’d made, the bellyflops that had hurt, and walking on rocks and acorns and gumballs to get to their shoes after swimming. It almost felt as if they’d grown up living next door to each other. Only they hadn’t. In so many ways they hadn’t…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Cain had plenty of memories of his own at the lake, just not the kind that made a son want to stay around. “Kind of amazing how good this dock looks after all these years.”
“That’s because I have it repaired every year.” Betsy walked back to shore and sat on the bench next to the dock. “You probably already know that Ameren owns the Lake of the Ozarks. And they do a great job because of their regulations. From the beginning, my dad instilled in us to always follow the rules, which is exactly what he did when he built this dock. I’ve followed that lead every year since.”
Eyeing the property, Cain was amazed by not only the view, but the mile marker, the gentle lay of the land and the easy drive from town. A rustle of fallen oak leaves in the near distance caused him to pull his gun, letting it hang down his side as if an extension of his arm.
