Always on My Mind (23 page)

John stood in the doorway of the office. Darek didn’t look at him as he stalked back into the office.

He stared at the computer for a moment, then closed it and headed outside, letting the bracing wind cool him as he escaped to the woodpile.

Casper had unpacked enough Gore-Tex rain suits, cargo shorts, thermal shirts, Teva sandals, and day packs to wish himself into
spring. He could nearly feel the sunshine on his skin, smell the piney scent of an awakening forest on the breeze as he crunched across trails littered with amber needles. He’d take out his dad’s old canoe
 
—the one he kept tied to the dock
 
—find some remote lake, and spend the day chasing walleye.

Except one look outside told him that any hope of spring might have slunk out in surrender to the gusts of icy wind that piled winter in haggard drifts along the roads, the shoreline.

He might never escape the cold.

“Two more boxes just arrived, Casper!” Ned called from the front room, his voice echoing all the way into the upstairs storage area. “I think these must be jackets
 
—Windbreakers. Yeah, here’s those convertible pants. They zip off at the knee
 
—”

“I’ll be out in a second.” After he figured out where to stack this last box of hiking boots. “Next time you decide to order spring supplies, you might consider doing it after the winter clearance sale.”

Nothing. He shook his head, trying to find a space
 
—anywhere
 
—in the crowded room. He’d labeled every box, tried to keep it ordered, but the place was packed, with a tiny aisle to crawl through to reach the camp chairs, lanterns, and collapsible bowls and camping utensils in the back.

“Just be glad I put the kayaks in the shed,” Ned said, leaning into the room. He surveyed the clutter. “Why aren’t you using the overflow storage?”

“Huh?”

“The old fish room.” He reached for the box of boots and Casper handed them over, climbing out of his prison.

“The fish room?”

Ned was already descending the stairs but glanced over his
shoulder. “It used to be an old fish house. The fishermen would bring in the catch, clean it, and then store it here, in the coolers.”

Casper followed Ned to the room, stepping through time into the cleaned yet ancient space. The briny odor of fresh fish still embedded the rough-hewn walls, the ceiling low, a window cut into one side that peered out over the lake. A locked door led outside.

“You sure you want to put the boxes in here?”

“Just for a week, until after the sale. It’s weatherproof.” Ned set down the box of boots. “Look, you can see the initials of the first proprietor right here.” He pointed to a gold plaque by the door, then left to get the next load of boxes.

Casper walked over to the plaque, peered at it.
D. T. W.

“Ned?” He came out of the room, jogging up to the front. “Are you sure that’s right? I thought the Zimmermans were the first owners of the trading post.”

Ned hoisted a box, handed it to Casper. “They were. But Dalton Wilder ran the fish house. He used to run supplies up and down the shore in his skiff. Actually, I think his kid Thor did a lot of it. Would run supplies between here and Mineral Springs. Thor opened a curio store there but probably bought this place when the Zimmermans passed and Mineral Springs closed down
 
—took over the trading post and used the old fish house for storage”

Casper fell into step behind Ned. Thor ran supplies to Mineral Springs. Which meant he might have occasionally stopped at Naniboujou on the way? Where he would meet Aggie Franklin?

He set the box on the floor, and Ned turned the light off as they exited.

He had to tell Raina. The thought rushed at him, and he even made to reach for his phone.

Except Raina hadn’t called him
 
—not once
 
—all week. He tried
not to let the image of Monte on the steps unsettle him, but twice he’d driven by her house, spied the truck, and decided that Monte spent way too much time alone with Raina.

“I think we need a little fun before the big clearance sale this weekend,” Ned was saying. “The ski resort is having a mountain bluegrass festival and you’re going out.” Ned held out Casper’s jacket, apparently retrieved from the office.

“What? No, Ned. I have stuff to do
 
—”

“No, you don’t.” Ned went over to the till, locked it, and grabbed the money bag. “You’re not spending one more night alone over there at the place time forgot.”

“If you’re referring to the historical society . . .”

“The has-been sanctuary, yeah.” He grabbed Casper by the shoulder. “You’re young and single and you haven’t had a date in months. That changes tonight.”

He’d dated . . . Just last weekend, he’d gone out with Raina. Except that wasn’t a date exactly.

Although it felt like a date. Or more, maybe. Deeper.

The kind of moment real friends shared. But that was all they would be. So . . . “Okay, fine, but listen, I don’t need you to set me up. I can find my own girl.”

“I know exactly what you need,” Ned said.

Two hours later, with the bluegrass music winding around him and Ned leaning against the bar, sweet-talking a couple of out-of-towners into dancing with him, Casper harbored his doubts.

His brain kept traveling back to Thor, Aggie’s journal, and the other pieces of the story, now floating to the surface of his mind. Like the fact that Aggie’s father had died. Or as Aggie said, been
murdered
. And what about the missing US Steel bonds? Did they actually belong to Aggie?

What if she still had them tucked away somewhere?

But if she truly was a wealthy debutante, why would she hide in the woods, married to a local fisherman-turned-merchant the rest of her days?

Thor’s letter pulsed at him.
“I think, in fact, you’ve known the truth about Duncan for years. In my defense, I did what every husband would do to keep his family safe.”

Casper had a feeling he knew exactly what Thor might have done
 
—

“Casper!”

He turned to see Signe sidling up to him. She wore jeans, a low-cut black shirt, a white faux fur–trimmed vest, looking every inch a snow bunny. “I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Hey, Sig. I thought you’d be working at the VFW tonight.”

“Nope.” Her long blonde hair was down and she flipped it. “Remember when I told you I had a boyfriend?” She reached for his drink, pushed it aside, and climbed onto the stool beside his. “We broke up.”

Movement beyond her caught his eye, and for a moment his gaze landed, stayed on a brunette, her hair piled on top of her head, a few curly tendrils escaping. Then she turned, and his entire body went numb. In fact, maybe he’d never be able to breathe again. She wore tall black boots that only showed off her legs, a black dress that hugged the outline of her body, tracing all her curves
 
—the ones that having a baby had left behind. A red scarf draped her neck, accentuating her red lipstick, and when she smiled at Monte, sweetly, trusting, Casper wanted to launch himself across the room and tackle him.

But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“So if you’re still interested, wanna dance?”

He reeled himself back, followed the voice, and found Signe grinning at him, reaching out to touch his shirt. “I like your necklace.” Her fingers closed around it. “Where’d you get it?”

“From a dig I worked on.” He saw her eyes sparkle as she examined it and thought,
Why not?
He’d hardly be giving it to Raina, and he wasn’t sure why he hung on to it. “You can have it.”

“Really?”

He untied it and reached around her, tying it around her neck.

“What is it?”

“A pirate doubloon,” he said, not sure why.

“I like it.” Then she leaned over and popped a kiss on his lips. Fast and tasting of beer.

Oh. Uh.

“Now do you want to dance?”

But the kiss had somehow slid shadows into his mood. “No. I think . . . I think I need to go.” It didn’t help that when he glanced again at Raina’s table, he saw Monte seated across from her, his hand on the table, holding hers. Caressing it. She laughed, and Casper thought he might shatter right there.

“No, Casper, stick around. I’m sorry
 
—”

But he pulled away, slid off the stool. “It’s fine. Nice to see you again, Sig. Another time.”

Or never.

He pushed through the crowd toward the door and had almost reached it when he felt a hand on his jacket.

“Casper!”

Ned.

“I gotta get out of here.”

“But I saw you talking to Signe.” Ned had consumed a few
beers and probably didn’t realize that the way he clamped his arm around Casper’s neck might cut off his air.

He unwound Ned’s grip. “Please tell me you didn’t send her over.”

“She’s lonely, man. On the rebound. Eddie cheated on her, and she needs a little attention.”

“Not from me. Ned, do you have a ride home? Because if not, I’m taking your keys and calling you a cab.”

Ned laughed and gestured to the two girls at the bar. Nice.

“Okay, great. Listen, if you need a ride, call me. Otherwise, I’m heading home.” He couldn’t help it. He glanced again toward Raina but shouldn’t have because he saw Monte take her hand and lead her to the floor as the band churned out a country slow dance.

Yeah, maybe Casper had been harboring some delusional hope that last weekend’s outing would spark something between them, something better, deeper. Something that would heal old wounds.

Except maybe it had. Maybe it had healed them too well.

At least for Raina.

“Stay out of trouble,” he said to Ned and ventured out into the cold. Whatever clues they’d dug up, he’d sleuth out the rest of the mystery on his own.

It took him the entire ride home before he could muster up a prayer for her.

“You’re so pretty, Raina. We had such a fun night. Are you sure you want me to leave?”

Monte stood just inside her door, one hand braced on the wall behind her, the other playing with her scarf, running it through
his fingers, his eyes caressing her. Probably he didn’t realize how the scarf tightened around her neck.

She’d dressed up for him tonight because he’d asked her to, although her simple black dress still felt tight. However, the gleam of appreciation and the way he’d treated her
 
—pulling out her chair, leaning in to give her his full attention, dancing with her, introducing her to his friends, his hand on the small of her back
 
—all felt so . . . official. As if he wanted her to be a part of his world.

Which, after the debacle with Casper last weekend, she should welcome. Poor Monte
 
—of course he should be jealous after she’d lied to him and snuck off with Casper as if it were a date. Of course he didn’t want her to spend time with her old flame, and when he explained, put it to her plainly, she saw that.

He’d had every right to raise his voice, to slam his hand against the wall in frustration. And then he’d actually teared up like she’d hurt him
 
—really hurt him
 
—and she’d pulled him into her arms.

He’d probably gotten the wrong idea about her, but thankfully she’d resurrected some boundaries before she found herself repeating the past.

Clearly she had problems drawing lines
 
—Monte even told her that she didn’t know her own powers, that she drove a man beyond himself.

But not tonight. Monte had been the perfect gentleman, helping her into his truck, complimenting her, telling her jokes. He regaled her with a story about the estate he’d just landed, including a barn filled with old signs, a 1938 Ford tractor, and a player piano. “We’ll make a killing if we can find the right buyers.”

For a moment, her thoughts had flashed to Casper and what he’d say about the old car, the piano. The story he’d weave about the person who’d owned them, and maybe how he’d restore them.

She’d even mentioned the idea of restoring the piano to Monte. But he was right
 
—why hang on to the past?