Book of Days_ A Novel - James L. Rubart [115]
"Any ideas why Taylor would go to all the effort to manufacture that book and set up the clues? This is more than a game to him," Ann said.
Cameron stared out the window. A sick game.
"I'm guessing you'll be keeping your date with Taylor tomorrow morning."
That's right! Taylor was going to teach him to fly-fish.
"Absolutely. He'd better be ready to catch much more than fish."
CHAPTER 42
Cameron got up Thursday morning with fishing on his mind. He was the hook. Taylor Stone was the trout.
They reached the trailhead to Whychus Creek at five o'clock, meaning Cameron had lurched out of bed at a horrendous time, but Taylor said they had to get to the river early if they wanted to catch any rainbows. This didn't jell with Taylor's penchant for dropping his flies on the river at all hours of the day, but Cameron didn't argue the point. It was the perfect place to confront him about his creation of a Book of Days, and if getting up before God was awake was the price, so be it.
Here there would be no distractions. Nowhere for Taylor to walk away to. And Cameron had written down the details of what they'd found under The Sail & Compass the night before, so if he needed to be reminded of anything, he could access it in an instant.
By six o'clock they'd tied their first flies and Taylor had coached him on the fluid back and forth motion needed to cast correctly. The hole Taylor had chosen was no bigger than a large inner tube. Cameron only hit the spot two times in ten casts, and bites from the brown trout under the translucent water eluded him, but he loved it.
The only sound was the rush of the river as it meandered its way through the stones, and the smooth swish of their rods through the air.
"Slow down," Taylor said, "you're not going to whip the fish into submission by casting like that. Let the fly settle on the water and then take it back up after a two count."
Cameron slowed down.
"Much better."
After he caught and released his first trout, Taylor said, "How many years were you and Jessie married before her accident?"
"Too few." Cameron drew back his rod and made a perfect cast into the hole. "Five."
"You were with her when she died?"
"Yeah." Cameron slogged through the water back to the rocky beach and set his rod down. "All the clichés you hear on the radio and see in the movies were bottled up in her like love-lightning. Being with Jessie was like opening that bottle in every moment."
"I know that love."
"You and Tricia?"
Taylor shook his head. "I love Tricia and don't deserve all the things she's done or tried to do for me." He cast five more times before he continued. "I'm talking about Annie."
Finally he would get the story on Annie.
"Ann was named for her as you know." He stopped casting and drilled Cameron with his eyes. "I'm not sure how I feel about you falling for my niece."
"I'm not falling for her."
Taylor adjusted his U of O hat. "Uh-huh."
Cameron rammed his hands into his back pockets and didn't answer.
"Annie was all grace and toughness. Pretty as all get-out but could run faster than half the boys growing up. Vanishing from my life almost thirty-three years ago, you'd think my memories would have faded, but Annie was the type you never forget."
Taylor finished releasing the fish he'd just caught and set it back in the river. It spurted away, disappearing downstream. "Of course not being able to let go of her makes for a pretty heavy burden to carry, you know?"
Cameron knew. "How did Annie die?"
"In a car accident." This time Taylor cast eight times. "Like you, I loved the old muscle cars. And I found a favorite. When I looked at the horses under the hood of that beat-up Mustang, I knew I was the one to tame her." Taylor turned and stared at him. "You understand, don't you?"
He nodded.
Taylor yanked back on his rod, a rainbow trout dangling on his line, and pulled it in. "I bought that beauty two summers before the accident happened. That car was my passion." Taylor trudged back to shore and set his rod down. "It took me the full two years to restore it. Ran as