California Schemin' - Kate George [4]
I climbed the steps and sat beside Beau on the swing. He dropped his arm around my shoulder and tugged me to him.
“Bad day?”
“Only if you count watching a woman fall a thousand feet from a bridge. I pulled her out of the water, but she had a bullet hole in her head. I couldn’t save her.”
“Oh, Babe. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned into him. His chest was like a warm and yielding brick wall. He didn’t smell bad either. I leaned back and looked up at him.
“You must have been home a while. You smell like soap.”
“Jumped in the shower. Figured I might as a well get cleaned up before you got home. He ran his hand across my cheek. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I thought I could help, you know. I didn’t know she’d be shot.”
“That’s a big drop, water’s kind of shallow. I doubt she could have survived it.” He slid his arm off my shoulders and got up. “Come on. I’m making dinner.” He held his hand out to me, and I let him lead me into the cabin.
Beau served me burgers at the burlwood table next to a window overlooking the deck along the back of the house. We could watch the wildlife while we ate, which normally made me happy, but today the woods seemed oppressive and made me miss the open fields of home.
“I did something exciting today,” Beau said as he swallowed the last of his burger.
“What’s that? Did you complete that spectacular fireplace you’ve been building?”
“Nope. Remember how I told you this cabin’s up for sale?’
“Yeah.” Unease started to gnaw at my belly. Please don’t tell me that you bought it.
“I bought it.”
“You bought it. To live in all the time?” My voice was low and flat. Somewhere in my head I knew I should be trying to drum up some enthusiasm, but it took a while for my internal sensor to kick in.
“Yeah, to live in all the time. There’s plenty of work out here. I love the weather. No relatives, although I will miss Tom’s kids. But they can come visit me here.” He looked at me, and I knew dismay was registering on my face. “What? I’m asking you to live here with me, Bree. Stay and enjoy being a Californian.”
“Beau, I don’t want to be a Californian. I don’t think you could get the Vermont out of me.”
“I thought you’d be thrilled to get away. Think about it, Bree. Here you get a fresh start. No one knew you in kindergarten or saw you skinny-dipping in the river. It’s all new.”
“I like that everyone knows me. I like the people in our town.”
“What about how they treated you when Vera was murdered? All those dirty looks and whispers behind your back. You want to go back to that?”
“Almost everyone apologized.” I looked down at the food left on the plate. The burger had lost its appeal, and the fries were cold. I dipped my fork in the pool of dressing I had on my plate and stabbed a few lettuce leaves. I looked at my laden fork for a moment and set it back down. My appetite had disappeared.
“Beau, I love that you brought me to California, but we’ve already been here two weeks longer than you said we would be. I’m writing articles and interviewing people long distance. Somehow it doesn’t seem fair to Meg that I took on the job of staff reporter and then skipped town. And I’m missing my animals a lot. I want to go home.”
“Why am I so surprised by this? You’ve always been a homebody. I guess somehow I thought that my being here would be enough to get you to stay. Shit.”
I got up from the table and walked out onto the deck. The sun was dropping over the mountains, and the air felt cool on my skin. Somehow I'd had the impression California was warm all the time. Maybe San Diego was warm all the time, but the Sierra Foothills were cold in November.
I walked to the railing and looked into the woods surrounding the clearing we called our yard. Birds and small animals