“For what?”
“For saying that it sucks and not trying to fix it or make excuses for him or tell me I should have tried harder. I swear, every time I open up to someone about my issues with my father, I get the weirdest responses. It’s like people can’t handle hearing something uncomfortable and they want to fix it. But he’s gone, there’s no fixing it. I didn’t have a great relationship with him and I never will and yeah, that sucks.”
“You’re right. It does suck.”
“And so does the fact that your mom left you.”
I glanced off into the trees. I didn’t like talking about her. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter. “Yeah, it sucks a lot, actually.”
Part of me wanted to say more. To admit that it hurt. That I hated knowing I wasn’t enough to make her stay.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t get the words out.
Audrey took my hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
I met her eyes. She was right, there was something comforting about that simple reply. She wasn’t going to try to convince me I was enough, or tell me my mom had been a terrible person for leaving her husband and three kids, or that I should just be glad I had Marlene. She wasn’t telling me how to feel. Just acknowledging the ache.
I nodded and squeezed her hand back.
We kept going while Max circled around us. He sniffed through the pine needles and stopped now and again to pee on a tree trunk. Instead of being awkward, the silence was comfortable.
The trail ascended in a gradual slope then hooked to the right and turned downhill. The roar of water rose in the distance.
“What is that? Is that water?”
“You’ll see. It’s just up ahead a little farther.”
We came around another bend and the trail opened onto the pristine waters of the lake. A waterfall plunged from its rocky height, sending up white spray into the evening air.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe this place isn’t packed with hikers.”
“Not many people know about it.” I pointed at the rocky cliff face. “My brothers and I use to come out here and climb, then jump.”
“You’re kidding. How did you not die?”
“It was stupid. We had to get as close to the waterfall as we could. It’s deep there, but on either side, it’s just rocks.”
Max ran to the edge of the lake and sniffed the water.
“Audrey?”
“Yeah?”
“Does Max know how to swim?”
“Yes, but—”
Whatever she was about to say, it was too late. Her dog dashed into the water and started paddling around.
“Oh, no. He’s going to make your truck smell like wet dog.”
I chuckled. He looked so pleased with himself, I couldn’t even be mad. “That’s okay. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving, actually. Did you pack dinner?”
“Of course.” I took off the backpack and set it down. “What did you think we were doing out here?”
“Just a hike, I guess. A picnic by a waterfall is so –”
“What?”
“Romantic.”
“Should I be insulted that you didn’t think I could be romantic?”
She laughed. “No. I just wasn’t sure what to expect on a first date with Josiah Haven. You keep surprising me.”
Surprising her felt good, just like making her smile.
I found a flat spot and unpacked the picnic I’d brought. In hindsight, I should have brought a blanket, but I hadn’t thought of that. Still, I had sandwiches from the Copper Kettle, raspberries I’d bought at the festival market, and a bottle of wine that I’d wrapped in a towel to keep it secure. I didn’t have wine glasses, but Audrey didn’t seem to mind drinking wine out of plastic cups, so I didn’t worry about it.
She called Max out of the water before we sat down to eat. Fortunately for us, he did most of his shaking by the edge of the lake and we only got hit by a bit of the spray. He did smell like wet dog, though. I’d brought a bully stick for him and he settled down to gnaw on it while we sat to eat our dinner.
I had a thing for the sound of water. It tended to undo the knots in my back and make me feel peaceful. I’d never brought a date out there before and I was glad it was Audrey. The dull roar of the waterfall as a backdrop to our first date felt prophetic, somehow. Like it meant something.
That made me nervous, but I pushed it aside. It was just a date. I didn’t need to worry about where this was going or how long she was really going to stay.
Easier said than done, but the food was good, the company was better, and the setting was serene.
We talked as we ate, about her job and mine. About the house I was remodeling and my plans for it. About my nieces and nephews and the old Haven-Bailey feud. About pranks and squirrels and the weirdness of Tilikum life.
I kept gazing at her while she talked. She had ideas to help resurrect the newspaper, but she could have been talking about anything and I would have been mesmerized. I liked hearing her voice, watching her mouth move, seeing her smile.
Eventually, cool air started to nip at us as the sun went down behind the mountain peaks. I packed up the remains of our meal and we started back down the trail, leaving the roar of the waterfall behind.
I held her hand. It felt good.
Max trotted happily around us, zig zagging back and forth across the trail. The sun was still up when we reached my truck, but only just. Audrey got in with a contented smile and I preened a bit. I’d pulled off a damn good date, if I said so myself.
Hell, even I’d enjoyed it.
I wasn’t thinking too much about where tonight was going as I drove back to Audrey’s place. A little—I’m a guy, after all. But if we said goodnight outside and that was it, I was okay with it. As much as I would have loved to get her naked, I was also hesitant to jump into something too soon.
Although when I pulled into her driveway, that buzz came back—the sense of anticipation hit me like the blast of heat from a bonfire.
Until I saw her door.
“Oh my god,” she said. “What is that?”
Even in the waning light, it was clear. Someone had scrawled the word bitch in big letters across her front door.
And based on the rust color, I had a feeling they hadn’t used paint.
CHAPTER 22
Audrey
“Stay here.”
Leaving the keys in the ignition, Josiah got out and shut his truck door behind him. My heart raced as I watched him cautiously approach the house and the sight of that word scrawled across my door made my stomach churn with fear.
Who would do something like that? And what had I ever done to them?
Max seemed to sense the tenseness of the situation. He hopped onto Josiah’s seat and whined a few times.
“We need to wait here for a few minutes. I don’t know what’s out there.”
As if he understood me, he sat.
Josiah inspected the front door and surrounding area. He held up a hand for me to stay where I was, then made a circuit around the house. I didn’t like waiting while he was out of sight, so I locked the doors until he came around the other side.
Finally, he came to my side of the truck. I rolled down the window.
“There’s another squirrel. Let me get rid of it before you let Max out.”
“A squirrel?” I stared in horror at the door. “Does that mean –”
“Looks like it.”
Someone had killed a squirrel and written on my door in its blood?
This could not be happening.
“Actually, I probably shouldn’t move it,” he said. “I need to call Garrett. Do you have a leash so you can take Max inside?”
“Yeah, I brought one in my bag.” I pulled out Max’s leash. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
He looked around. His jaw was set in a hard line. “Seems to be and I didn’t see any sign of forced entry. You locked your door when we left, right?”
“Yes. I’m sure I did.”
“It’s still locked and so is the back door. I don’t see anyone around. Looks like they did this and took off.”
“In broad daylight? The sun isn’t even all the way down.”
“It’s ballsy, I’ll give them that.”
“Ballsy and horrible.”
I didn’t ask the question. I knew we were both thinking it. Who did this?