Read Storm on the Horizon Page 3


  Chapter 3

  It had been a pleasant, uneventful drive to the lake, with only a quick stop at the entrance to the lake to pick up some groceries from the General Store. Kate and Jason had unpacked immediately, then decided to have lunch out on the deck overlooking the water. As Jason carried the tuna sandwiches outside and Kate poured the milk, she wondered why it was that she always felt so hungry every time they came up to the cabin. She breathed deeply as she followed Jason out the door. Must be this delicious mountain air, she thought, feeling freer and more at ease than she had in months.

  “Look at all the boats, Mom,” Jason called, pointing toward the lake. “I’ll bet they’re catching lots of fish out there.”

  Kate smiled. “I imagine they are.”

  “Can we rent a boat and go out after lunch?”

  “We’ll see, honey.” Kate picked up a sandwich. “Let’s eat first and then decide, okay? We’ve got plenty of time, you know.”

  Jason smiled back. “I know, Mom. It’s just that I get so excited about coming up here.”

  Kate laughed. “You get excited about everything.” She took a bite of her sandwich, watching her son intently. She could tell Jason was having a difficult time concentrating on his lunch, with his heart already out on the lake. She loved his enthusiasm for life. She knew without her vibrant, active son, her life would be very lonely indeed. And unbearably dull.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the peaceful, quiet surroundings. Although there were several cabins nearby, they weren’t visible among the towering cedars and dainty, dancing-leafed aspens that surrounded the lake, giving the illusion of being completely alone, away from the everyday world with all its problems and complications—and pain.

  Some of the happiest times of Kate’s life had been right here at this cabin. She remembered coming to the lake as a little girl before her mother died, and then even more often with her father after her mother was gone. This was the one place Richard Waters had seemed able to relax, to escape the cares of the world and the many responsibilities of his job, to put his pain and loss behind him for a short time and regroup.

  How very much like him I am, she thought, then smiled. And how like him my son is. Yet I see so much of Tony in Jason, too. His eagerness and inquisitiveness, his sensitivity, even his impulsiveness… I always thought those very qualities were what made Tony such a good reporter.

  Kate had often wondered what career Jason might pursue as he grew up. Whatever it was, she was confident he would do it well—and with gusto.

  She opened her eyes as a sudden breeze came up, scattering their napkins across the deck. As Jason ran to pick them up, Kate looked across the lake and was surprised to see how quickly the dark clouds had begun to move in.

  “Looks like we’re in for one of our afternoon rainstorms, Sport,” she said. “The lake is even starting to get choppy. Maybe we’d better finish our lunch and get inside. You know how fast these storms can move in up here.”

  “Aw, Mom, does that mean we can’t go fishing this afternoon?”

  “I’m afraid so, honey,” she said, pointing toward the lake. “Look. Most of the boats are starting to head in.”

  Jason’s earlier enthusiasm had disappeared, and he looked out toward the lake and nodded reluctantly. “I guess so.” He sighed, holding his unfinished sandwich in his hand.

  “Hey,” Kate teased, “this is just the first day, remember? Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we’ll head out as soon as the boat rentals are available, okay? We’ll go before breakfast. It’s always clear and calm then, and when we come back, we’ll make pancakes and bacon. What do you say?”

  Jason’s face lit up. “Pancakes and bacon? My favorites!”

  Kate laughed again. “Let’s get this stuff inside before that storm gets here. I’ll wash the dishes and you can dry, and then I’ll challenge you to a game of checkers. How’s that?”

  Jason was already up and clearing the table. “I love checkers,” he called over his shoulder. “But you know I’m going to win, Mom. I always do.”

  The rain started slowly at first, but before long it was coming down in sheets. Tiny pebbles of hail bounced on the roof and skittered across the deck, as the wind blew and rattled the small two-bedroom cabin. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled in the distance, but it only made Kate feel cozier and more secure, safe here with the only one left in the whole world who really mattered to her.

  She got out some candles and a kerosene lamp in case the electricity should go off, making a mental note to be sure to buy more kerosene on their next trip to the General Store. There was probably enough for the evening if they needed it, but it was getting low.

  After several games of checkers, Kate realized she didn’t have to let Jason win as often now, as he was doing it without her help. When they tired of that, they worked on a large jigsaw puzzle together until Jason decided to go to his room and rummage through his toy box. This was their first trip to the cabin since Labor Day, so the toys seemed almost new to him. When Jason settled down to build with his Lincoln Logs, Kate picked up a pair of binoculars and went over to the large picture window in the living room to look out at the lake below. There were no boats out now. They were all safely tied to the docks, bobbing roughly on the whitecaps whipped up by the swirling winds.

  She laid the binoculars down and curled up in the rocking chair with the book she had bought earlier that day. She thought of Mark Thomas, with his warm, charismatic smile and his startling blue eyes, then closed her own blue-gray eyes and tried to picture him more clearly. He wasn’t tall—maybe five feet, eight or nine inches—with sandy blond hair and an average build. In fact, if it weren’t for his eyes and his smile, she might have thought him completely average. She might possibly have not noticed him at all. But she had noticed him. And for some reason she couldn’t understand—a reason that went beyond those magnificent eyes and that winning smile—she knew Mark Thomas was anything but average.

  “I’m getting hungry, Mom,” Jason called from the bedroom. “When do we eat?”

  Kate laughed and shook her head. “You’re a bottomless pit, Jason Ames,” she called back to him, setting her book aside. Her adventures into the pre-Civil War South would have to wait until after dinner.

  By the time they were through eating and the dishes were washed, it was time for Jason to take his bath and go to bed. Kate tucked the covers around his freshly scrubbed cheeks and ran her fingers through his damp hair. Her heart ached with love as she gazed at the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

  “Can you read to me a little while, Mom?” he asked. “From one of my new books?”

  Kate smiled. “Of course I can.” She grabbed a book off the dresser. “How’s this one?”

  Jason nodded eagerly. “I was hoping that’s the one you’d pick. That’s why I put it on top.”

  The book was a collection of short stories, all in some way tied in with the Bible. Kate hadn’t noticed that when she bought the books.

  Which isn’t surprising, she scolded herself. You weren’t paying much attention to anything when you bought those books—except Mark Thomas.

  Jason convinced her to read two of the stories, but then Kate insisted it was past his bedtime. “We have to get up early tomorrow if we want to beat everyone else to those fish,” she told him. “So let’s say your prayers and go to sleep, all right?”

  Jason closed his eyes and folded his hands. Before Tony died, he and Kate had always prayed with Jason at bedtime. After that Richard Waters had continued the practice. Kate told herself the only reason she carried on the tradition was because of Jason.

  As she kissed her son goodnight and tiptoed out of the room, she decided a nice hot bath was just what she needed before bed. Filling the tub with hot water and bubbles, she lowered herself into the bath, then lay back with her book and began to read. By the time she was midway through the first chapter, she was hooked. It wasn’t unti
l the water began to cool that she remembered where she was.

  A few moments later, as she crawled into bed with her book—Just one more chapter and then I’ll go to sleep, she promised herself—she was surprised to find herself wondering if she would always sleep alone. Would there ever be another husband for her? A father for Jason?

  She opened her book, determined to put such foolish thoughts from her mind. Of course there won’t be another husband, she reminded herself. Or another father. I’m not about to risk that kind of pain again. Except for Jason, when have I ever loved anyone I haven’t lost? I just couldn’t go through that again….

  But as she began to read her book, the description of the tall, dark, good-looking hero brought back painful images of Tony—although the images weren’t as clear as they had once been. That scared Kate, somehow.

  From Tony, almost against her will, her mind wandered to Lyle Montgomery, as it always seemed to. She could hardly think of one without thinking of the other. And yet, despite their looks, they really had nothing in common. With Tony she had always felt protected and loved; when she was around Lyle, she felt uncomfortable and anxious to get away.

  And then she remembered the cold reception she’d gotten from Sharon Williams the day before. Lyle’s secretary obviously had her eyes on her boss, but for some reason he just wasn’t interested. But he was interested in Kate. Kate couldn’t understand that. She felt so inferior as a woman next to Sharon. She flinched as she thought of the icy stare from those green eyes, the jealousy, the veiled hostility. Just how much did Sharon Williams hate her, anyway?

  All the more reason to steer clear of Lyle Montgomery, she thought, opening her book once again. But before she could read half a page, the phone rang.

  Kate got out of bed, frowning. Who in the world would be calling her here? No one except Lyle and Mrs. Johnson, her neighbor, knew where she was. Mrs. Johnson would have no reason to call, and Lyle had said he would call only if something came up about the papers. Of course, the number was listed, so anyone could get it if they wanted to, but why would they?

  As she walked to the kitchen to answer the call, she wondered if they’d been wrong not to have an unlisted number. It was something that simply hadn’t occurred to them when Kate’s dad insisted on having the phone installed shortly after Tony died and Kate had started coming up to the cabin alone with Jason. The only concern at that time was that the two of them not be isolated.

  She lifted the receiver on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

  There was no answer.

  Kate swallowed and her voice shook. “Hello?”

  When there was still no answer, she slammed the phone down as panic clutched at her throat. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming, then turned and ran to the door to make sure it was locked. She checked all the windows, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

  Finally she went back into her room and looked at the book lying on her bed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to read anymore that night. In fact, she doubted she would be able to get any sleep, either. But she had to lie down; she had to rest. She had promised Jason she would take him fishing early in the morning.

  Jason! She ran into her son’s room where a nightlight burned, casting dim shadows against the pale, knotty pine paneling that covered the cabin’s walls. Her beloved son was sleeping peacefully, the innocent, deep sleep of the very young.

  Suddenly she couldn’t bear to be away from him, not even as far as her own room. She crawled under the covers and lay beside him on the narrow bed, listening to the rain on the roof until she finally drifted into a restless, dream-filled sleep just before dawn.