Harbor Nights (18 page)

“But it could be a financial windfall to some of the local fishermen, and it will supply food.”

“What happens when an unusual storm hits those bays and upsets the whole farm industry despite all the precautions you listed nicely and neatly?” Ned looked down at Norah; he couldn't tell if she was for the oyster farming or against it. As was her style, she hadn't voiced her opinion in the column at all. Just the facts. “Those oysters will then be in the water. It's an ecosystem disaster waiting to happen. There's a reason those oysters aren't found naturally in those bays, and people can't go around playing God.”

“No one said they were playing God.”

“They didn't have to, Norah. You can't just relocate species and expect everyone and everything to live in harmony. It doesn't work that way.”

“True.”

He had a feeling she agreed with him on the subject, but she wasn't telling. “I have to admit, though, that some of your facts and figures are interesting. But there is still no way those permits will be issued.”

“Preliminary meeting is next month.”

“I know, and I'll be there.” He didn't make his living from the sea, but he knew this decision would affect everyone. He wasn't going to let the issue pass just to put a few extra coins in some people's pockets. “So, are you going to give me a hint about what your column will be on this week? You're acting awfully secretive about it.”

“Ah.” Norah looked guilty, but in the fading light, it was hard to tell. “I think I'll let it surprise you.”

Ned pulled up in front of Norah's house and stared at her as she pushed the mower back and forth, cutting neat rows of grass. He had been so mad at her that he had actually seen red this morning. During the course of the day, the color hadn't faded much.

But darn it, she looked so incredibly sexy in her short little shorts and skimpy top and all sweaty from cutting the grass. How anyone could work up a sweat while using a self-propelled lawn mower was beyond him. Then again, she was wearing at least ten pounds of metal in the form of bracelets on her wrists. Just moving around would give her an all day workout.

He glanced down at the neatly folded newspaper lying on the seat next to him. Norah's column from this morning was turned face up for all the world to see. His little journalist had written about the logging industry, and not in very flattering terms. No wonder she hadn't wanted to tell him what her next article was going to be. She had known he wasn't going to like it, yet she had written it anyway.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He was being unfair to Norah, and he knew it. It was her job to write that article, and while the facts she had quoted were right, they didn't tell the whole story. He wanted her to see the truth. His truth.

Daniel and Quinn had read Norah's column too but had wisely kept their opinions to themselves and let him work out his frustration. Considering he had set a record pace on the jobsite today, Daniel and Quinn had been too exhausted to say much of anything.

He was dirty and tired from putting in a twelve-hour day, and he wanted to strangle a certain little redhead.

Then he was going to kiss her senseless.

How could one barely five-foot-tall woman cause so many emotions all at once? Most of the time he had no idea if he was coming or going around her. One thing he did know was that he couldn't leave her with the impression he went around cutting down all the trees in the world and leaving Bambi and Thumper homeless. He considered himself very environmentally friendly. Just because he lived in a log home and worked at constructing them didn't mean he wanted to level all trees and make a dust bowl out of the world.

Norah made another pass with the mower and finally looked up and spotted him sitting there. It was hard to read her face as most of it was obstructed by the Phillies baseball cap she was wearing. She stopped pushing the mower and turned it off, but she didn't walk toward his truck.

It was time to pay the piper, and she knew it. The problem was, he was afraid to confront her. Afraid he would lose his temper and raise his voice. Afraid he would see that fear back in her eyes and know he was the one to put it there.

He took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly while he counted to ten. Then he opened the door and got out of the truck.

Norah stood her ground and raised her chin a notch. He admired her bravery but was saddened that she thought it was necessary. He walked across the yard and stopped about three feet away. “Norah.”

“Ned.”

“I read your column this morning.” He saw her flinch and felt like a heel. “It was interesting reading.”

“Thank you.” Norah's rings were tapping against the metal bar of the mower.

“You have anything planned for this weekend?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels.

“Not particularly. Why?”

“You up for an overnight hike? There's a place out in Somerset County I would like to show you.”

“What kind of place, and how much hiking?”

“It's an entire forest that was selectively clear-cut a couple years back.” He could tell she was intrigued. “It will be an easy hike; I won't need any of my gear. Just a leisurely stroll up a mountain or two.”

“We won't need sleeping bags or tents?”

“Those we will need; I was referring to my rock climbing gear.” He gave her a slow smile. “You up for the challenge, Rose Fairy?”

“I can stroll leisurely with the best of them.” Norah gave him a wide grin. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I'll let you sleep late.” His arms ached from not being able to reach out and hug her. She looked adorable. “I'll be here at five Saturday morning, and we'll be home after dinner on Sunday.” He couldn't believe it. He was going to see Norah out in his world. His woods. Talk about a fish out of water.

“What do I need to bring?” Norah looked like she might be having second thoughts on this one.

“Wear jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and hiking boots.” He was trying to make it easy on her. “Bring a change of clothes for Sunday, if you want, and maybe a sweatshirt and sweatpants to sleep in. Whatever you pack, you'll carry on your back along with a sleeping bag and a tent I have for you. I'll carry whatever supplies we'll be needing.” He didn't want to bury her beneath a mountain of bottled water and cooking gear.

“Sounds easy enough.” Norah looked him straight in the eye.

He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. “This doesn't let you off the hook. I'm still not happy with the column.”

“Didn't think you would be.” Norah visibly relaxed.

“I'll pick you up at five.” He had a lot of work to do between now and then if he wanted to take the weekend off.

“I'll be waiting with bells on.” Norah's smile was teasing.

He wouldn't put it past her. Considering the amount of jewelry she normally wore, bells wouldn't make that much of a difference. “Good. Since I'm packing everything, you're in charge of making a thermos full of coffee and something we can eat as breakfast while we drive.”

“Consider it done.”

He kissed her again because he couldn't stop himself. Kissing Norah was an addiction. He didn't pull her into a hug because he was disgustingly dirty from working all day. “Behave yourself till then, and if you have to write another column on the logging industry, call me. I'll give you the real story.”

“I wrote the real story.”

“One man's facts are another man's fiction.” He quoted Nora's own words to her.

“I seem to have heard those words before.”

“'Bye.” He started back to the truck.

Norah stood there watching him with a wide smile curving her mouth.

“Oh, Norah?” He opened the driver's side door and looked across the hood at her.

“What?”

“Don't wear any perfume; the bugs will eat you alive.”

 

 

By noon on Saturday, Norah was convinced she was going to die.
Leisurely stroll, my ass!
Ned's idea of a stroll was straight up the freaking side of a mountain. “How much further to where they cut the timber?” Her new hiking boots were killing her, but the seventeen-dollar socks that the sales clerk had sworn would prevent blisters actually seemed to be working. Now, if only her little piggies would stop aching.

“Are you ready for lunch?” Ned glanced over his shoulder at her and tried not to grimace at what he saw, but she noticed it anyway.

“Sure am; what are we having?” So she wasn't a raving beauty; sue her. She was so hungry she didn't care what she looked like as long as he fed her. With a sigh of relief, she lowered her backpack and plopped herself down on the nearest boulder. The rock was a little hard on the butt, but the nice-sized log about ten feet away looked dirty, and there was fuzzy stuff growing on it. There was no way she was sitting on that.

Ned gave a loud whistle and then lowered his pack. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and an apple for dessert.” He opened his pack and pulled out their lunch.

Flipper came charging through the woods from their left. The darn dog was covered in brambles, and he appeared to be smiling. Ned laughed at the sight, dug further into his pack, and pulled out an empty dog bowl. He poured some water into the bowl, and Flipper proceeded to lap it up, drenching everything within four feet of him.

Ned handed her the paper bag. “I packed you two sandwiches, thinking you might get extra hungry.”

“Thanks.” If she wasn't afraid her deodorant had stopped working about two hours ago, she would have kissed him. Instead, she reached for the bag and dug in.

Ned chuckled and sat down beside her. “You're not doing too badly for a first time hiker.” He bit into his sandwich.

“I've done small hikes before.” She unscrewed the cap from her bottle of water and took a long swallow. “You know, nature trails, scenic strolls around a lake, that kind of stuff.” What she was doing with Ned wasn't strolling or even hiking. It was mountain climbing without the equipment. They had been heading straight up since leaving his parked truck in a pull-off area five hours ago. Five long and torturous hours ago.

Her thighs were never going to be the same.

“How come your boots look new?” Ned frowned at her feet.

“Because I just bought them last night.” She tried to wiggle her toes, but they weren't budging. She wasn't sure if the boots were supposed to be that tight or if her feet had swollen.

“You went out and bought hiking boots?”

“You said I needed them.” She thought they were big, clunky, and butt ugly, but they had been the cutest pair in her size. “The sales guy said I should break them in, but I told him I didn't have time. So we compromised.” She pulled the hem of her jeans up, showing Ned her new pair of thick, expensive green socks. The kind of socks that experienced hikers wore. The kind of socks that would keep your feet warm until it reached forty degrees below zero. At anything lower than that temperature, she hadn't a clue about what would happen to her feet, nor was she ever going to find out. Winter vacations in the Antarctic weren't on her “Must Do Before I Die” list.

“I bought these, and I wore the boots around the mall and then home last night to soften them up some.” They hadn't matched the green lace dress she had worn to work, but she'd figured what the heck, it wasn't like she knew anyone in Bangor. What were a few queer looks from strangers?

“Any blisters yet?”

“No, the socks are doing their job.” She took another bite of her sandwich and moaned with delight. “I love strawberry jelly.”

“That's good because we are having it for lunch again tomorrow.”

“Great.” She was feeling a little better now that she had gotten her breath back and was putting something in her stomach besides water. “You still didn't tell me how much farther to the clear-cutting.”

“It's not clear-cutting; it's selective cutting, and you have been walking through it since we left the truck.” Ned glanced around him. “This mountain has been harvested twice in the last ten years.”

She looked around her in wonder. “Where?” It looked like a real forest to her. There were big trees, medium-sized trees, and even little baby ones. “What did they take?”

“Trees; straight, mature trees.” Ned pointed to a crooked pine tree. “See how that one is bent and twisted. Now imagine trying to make a log for a home out of that.”

“You can't.” She smiled at the image in her mind. “So it stays.”

“And seeds the ground around it with new, hopefully straight trees.” Ned leaned back onto the boulder and put his face toward the sun. “Timbering, if done right, is a naturally renewable resource. Oh, sometimes it could use a little help now and again, but if we don't become too greedy, there'll be plenty of trees for our grandchildren not only to enjoy but also to use.”

“You do know that not everyone thinks like you, right?” She liked Ned's perfect little world. Perfect little mountain. But the world wasn't a perfect place. She had triple checked those facts before putting into her column. She had known Ned, and quite a few other people, were going to challenge them.

“Yeah, but it would be a better world if they did.” Ned laughed as he pulled his apple out of his bag. “Your facts were right, Norah. I can't argue them. I can only show you that there is another side to it. A side trying to keep people employed, trying to supply homes for those people, while keeping the forests green and thriving.”

“So you brought me out to the middle of nowhere to show me crooked trees?” She had given quite a lot of thought to this overnight hike and what it would mean to their relationship. She was totally out of her element, while Ned was in his tracking through the woods and up a mountain. The man hadn't once pulled out a compass or a map. She, on the other hand, was totally lost. The only thing she did know was that the truck was parked downhill from where they were.

“Well, I would be able to point out some wildlife if you didn't scare them away with all the noise you make.”

“What noise?” She glared at him and tried not to laugh. While he walked in front of her with barely a sound, she crashed through the underbrush, muttered obscenities at logs and rocks that were in her way, and in general, gasped for breath the entire hike. An elephant in a chicken coop would make less noise. “I only wore one bracelet.” She held up her hand and wiggled her wrist. The copper bracelet didn't make a sound. “See, no clanging.”

“I see.” Ned reached into his pack and pulled out a treat for Flipper. “Here, boy, that's it until dinner. You're getting fat.”

Norah looked at the hundred and fifty-pound, covered in black fur dog and shook her head. “How can you tell? Black is slimming, you know.”

“Every time I turned around last weekend, Tyler was feeding him.” Ned shoved the empty paper bags back into his pack and tossed his apple core into the woods. “Ready to go?”

She glanced in the direction she thought was up. The trees were so thick it was impossible to tell how much farther to the top. “Are we going all the way up to the top?”