The Chesapeake Diaries Series (37 page)
Read The Chesapeake Diaries Series Online
Authors: Mariah Stewart
She nodded. “Why don’t you skip the part where you talk to the FBI about it? What would they do with it? Let it sit in a box somewhere? Buy information with it?”
Grady laughed. “I feel I can trust John Mancini to steer me in the right direction.” He ran his hands up her arms. “So, you think you could fit in a little shopping this afternoon?”
Vanessa frowned. “Shopping? What do you need to shop for?”
“Not for me, for you.” He glanced down at her feet even while he kissed her neck. “I’m guessing a size, what, seven and a half? Eight?”
“We’re going to shop for shoes?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Not shoes,” he corrected her. “Hiking boots …”
* * *
They were, she suspected, the ugliest things she’d ever had on her feet, but she was okay with them, because they meant that she and Grady would be spending the entire day together. It meant that he wanted to share something with her that was important to him.
She still could barely believe he’d come back. She’d pinched herself twenty times between yesterday afternoon and this morning, when he woke her at four—after a very few hours of sleep—and made her eat a real breakfast before they left the house.
“Tell me again where we’re going?” she asked sleepily as they walked to his rented Jeep.
“Bull Run Mountain in Virginia,” he told her. “I heard it was a nice hike. We’ll start with a short walk, an easy walk, so you can see if you like it.”
“I like to walk. I walk up to Charles Street and back every day,” she reminded him. “And I don’t have to wear ugly shoes to do it.”
He laughed. “You’ll be very happy to have those ‘ugly shoes’ when you start up the mountain.”
“I don’t know why I couldn’t have worn my running shoes.” She got into the passenger seat and closed the door.
“Because you’re not running. You’re hiking. And you’d have been wise to wear them around the house last night to get your feet accustomed to them.”
“We didn’t do much walking around the house last night. As a matter of fact, as I recall, we almost didn’t have dinner.”
“Good point.”
“So you were saying that you read somewhere that this is a nice hike.” She settled into the seat and closed her eyes. “What constitutes a ‘nice’ hike?”
“It’s supposed to have some interesting trails. Most of the trails are relatively easy. The Battle of Thoroughfare Gap was fought there during the Civil War.”
“Who won?” she asked.
“I believe the Confederates won that round.”
“How far is it?”
“Maybe another hour, hour and a half from here.”
“No, I meant, how long is the hike?”
“Oh, you mean, how long are the trails, start to finish?”
She nodded.
“Not long at all. I think I read that the main loop is only about four and a half miles. But there are other sights to see off the main loop. If you took all those trails, too, it runs about seven miles, I think.”
“Seven miles? In one day?” She wrinkled her nose and Grady laughed again.
“We don’t have to do all seven,” he assured her. “We don’t even have to do the entire four. We can just walk until you feel tired, but I did hear that there are spectacular views from the top of the ridge.”
“Don’t tell me how far it is from the car to there, okay? We’ll let it be a surprise.” She wiggled her toes inside her new hiking boots and hoped they’d feel as comfortable when they finished as they did right at that moment.
No such luck.
The parking lot was at the end of a road, and the trail picked up to the right and across some old railroad tracks. There was a kiosk with some liability waivers to sign and some trail maps. They signed the
forms and Grady studied the map, then turned to Vanessa and asked, “Ready?”
“Sure.” She looked around the area, which was nicely wooded and smelled fresh and green and didn’t appear to be too bad.
They walked along the trail through peaceful woodlands. At one point, Grady stopped and said, “There’s an old cemetery off that way. How about we check it out? Or would you rather do that on the way back?”
“On the way back,” she answered, a bit too quickly. She wasn’t sure how far four and a half miles would be and the trails appeared to be a bit rustic, with some fallen trees to walk over or around.
The trail ran along streams where there were small waterfalls, and while the man-made bridges were deteriorated, there were rocks to follow across the water. It was beautiful and quiet, but the trails were beginning to lead upward. After a particularly steep ascent, Vanessa was finding it harder and harder to catch her breath.
“Are you all right?” Grady asked from time to time, and she’d nod and say, “Yes. I’m fine. Sure.”
But by the time they reached the outcrop of rocks that marked the ridge, she was panting and couldn’t wait to sit.
“And my feet hurt,” she told Grady.
“Well, here, sit down and rest for a few minutes and let’s enjoy this spectacular view.” She started to sit and he said, “Wait.”
He inspected the rock and the terrain off to both sides.
“What?” She frowned.
“I just wanted to make sure there were no rattlesnakes sunning themselves where you were about to plant your butt.”
He sat and held a hand up to her to help her down.
“That was your idea of a joke, I hope. Though it wasn’t really very funny …”
“No.” He shook his head and opened his backpack. “No joke. I don’t make jokes about poisonous snakes.”
“You mean, there really are rattlesnakes around here?” She cast dubious glances at the ground.
“Sure. You’re in the woods.” He looked up and saw her uncertainty. “It’s okay. I checked. It’s safe.”
She sat but looked uncomfortable.
“So how do you feel?” he asked.
“Seriously?” She looked up at him and he nodded. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, thirsty, and I do not like snakes.”
“Other than that, what do you think of the view?”
“It’s beautiful,” she admitted.
She looked out across a green valley. Overhead a hawk circled, and in the trees somewhere behind them, a bird was singing. “I do understand why people like to do this. Other people, though, not necessarily me.”
He took off his backpack, opened it, and handed her a bottle of water.
“Don’t drink it too quickly,” he warned. “Just sip it.”
She did her best not to chug it. It was lukewarm but tasted wonderful. Amazing how good water can taste when you are truly thirsty.
“And look, Ness.” He pointed off to her right and
grabbed her hand. “That’s a bald eagle. Look at the wingspread …”
“Oh.” She stared at the huge bird that had soared up from below the rocks. “I’ve never seen one that close. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one at all. It’s … it’s breathtaking.”
They watched it rise, then glide across the valley.
“That was a moment.” She smiled up at him. “One I will remember for a long time.”
“Good.” He squeezed her hand. “Now, are you ready for lunch?”
“Oh my God, I thought you’d never ask.” She leaned back on her elbows and held her face up to the sun.
“Here you go.” He put something in her hand.
She opened her eyes and looked down.
“Normally, I’d be the last person to turn down a candy bar,” she told him, “but I’m starving and I need real food, so I hope you have something fabulous in that backpack of yours.”
“It’s not a candy bar, it’s an energy bar. And it
is
lunch.”
“This”—she held up the wrapped bar—“is
lunch?
I walked for two hours and this is all I get?”
He nodded calmly.
“See all the good stuff it has in it?” He turned the bar over and pointed to the list of ingredients but she appeared not to notice. He shrugged, then unwrapped his bar, took a bite, and began to chew. “It’s really good. Honest. I take them out on the trail with me all the time.”
“Why don’t we have real food?”
“Because it’s easier, more convenient, and certainly
lighter in weight. You’re getting all that your body needs between the nutrition in the bar and the water.”
She continued to stare at him.
Finally she said, “Grady, do you remember when we were making cookies at my house before the wedding?”
“Sure.”
“And you said that Mia didn’t know you had a job and if I promised not to tell her that you’d buy my silence—your words—with anything I wanted?”
“Right.”
“Well, I never told her, so the offer is still good. I mean, it’s still open, right?”
“Uh-huh.” He took another bite. If he was worried about where this was leading, it didn’t show.
“And it was
anything
I wanted, right?”
“That was the deal.”
“Here.” She held out her energy bar. “You’re going to need it.”
“Why?” He frowned and took the last bite of his.
“Because I know what I want.”
“I always pay up. Go ahead. What is it?”
“I want you to carry me down off this damned mountain and buy me a burger.”
For my dad and my brother—who both passed on in the last months of 2009, and who are loved and missed every day. And for Elliot, whose birth reminds us that life does indeed go on, and that the chain remains unbroken.
Many thanks to:
Those incredible folks at Ballantine Books for their support, encouragement, and enthusiasm—Linda Marrow, Libby McGuire, Scott Shannon, Kim Hovey—and Kate Collins, my fabulous editor, whose guidance has made every one of my books better; Scott Biel, for coming up with the beautiful covers that are
so right
for these stories; and last but not least—the long-suffering production staff.
The lovely Grace Sinclair, whose winning of a drawing at Country Meadows Retirement Village in Hershey, PA, inspired a character.
Victoria Alexander, who saved me from reinventing the wheel. When I told her I wanted to write a series set in a small town filled with interesting characters on the Chesapeake, she reminded me that I already
had
a little town on the Bay filled with interesting characters (St. Dennis from
Last Words
)
and
I should set my new series there and write more about the characters I already had. So I did.
And as always, St. Loretta the Divine.
Home Again
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2010 by Marti Robb
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
B
ALLANTINE
and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-345-52036-4
v3.0_r1
Contents
July 13, 1983
Diary ~
Another sunny summer day in sleepy St. Dennis. Spent the morning at the Inn helping the housekeeping staff wash the bed linens, and the afternoon washing the lunch dishes and trying to keep my children out of trouble. Oh, the glamorous life of an innkeeper on the Chesapeake Bay!
